The boar’s wife
Issue five: short fiction by Madison Jozefiak
In many fairy tales, characters are named by their archetypes: the Princess, the Maiden, the Boar/Dragon/other monster, etc. ‘Each one comes with a set of rules and characteristics that hardly ever vary,’ notes author Madison Jozefiak. ‘It made me want to read one of these fairytales where the characters disobey the rules and defy what's possible for their role.’ For today’s story, we invite you to into the proverbial dark woods where the line between monster and man is razor-thin.
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The King soon perceived that something had happened to his best Huntsman, and ran up to help him… He then saw upon one finger the ring which he had given to his first love, and, as he looked into the face of the supposed Huntsman, he recognized her. At this sight his heart was so touched that he kissed her, and, as she opened her eyes, he said, ‘You are mine, and I am thine, and no power on earth shall make it otherwise.’— from ‘The Twelve Huntsmen’ by the Brothers Grimm
Long ago in a forest with no name, a Witch came upon a Wild Boar foraging in the brush. He was a beast so large that upon his back one could have built a hut for a family of five to comfortably live in, and the Witch thought she would capture and enchant him, for with his strength he should make a fine servant.
She brought the Wild Boar to her dwelling place and turned him into a young man she was pleased to look upon. But the boar regained his rightful form the next day, and made his escape. He fled as fast as he was able, and did not cease running until his formidable might gave out in the woods around a certain royal city.
Though he had achieved his freedom, the Wild Boar lived still under the Witch’s curse. During the day he appeared as he should, but at night he became a man and wandered about, bemoaning his fate. Thus begins the tale I aim to tell, but to continue I must first I touch upon another.
There was once upon a time a Prince who, as a young child, eluded the watchful eye of his nurse and ran into the forest, whereupon he was devoured by a wild boar. In great sorrow, the King decreed that every such animal surrounding his kingdom be slain.
Ten years after this came to pass, there arrived a Wild Boar so large that upon his back one could have built a hut for five people to comfortably live in. Wherever he went, creatures great and small fled his looming shadow, but when moonlight touched him, he lost his saber-like tusks and coarse, bristled hide. He was left to wander the nighttime forest in the shape of a man.
‘Would that I could revenge myself upon the Witch who thought to capture and enchant me,’ said the boar-man. ‘For I would pluck out her eyes, rend her body asunder, see her miserably burnt, and drown her twice for good measure!’
These were the ferocious words he spoke, as he shivered and searched for a place to sleep safe from the forest’s wolves.
One day, the King and his nobles came upon the Wild Boar while they were out hunting. The party raised a cry of alarm, and the King took up his rifle, but he was reeling with drink and his aim was not true. He only shot the Wild Boar in the ear.
As blood from the wound rushed into the Wild Boar’s eyes, he ran about in a blind fury, striking trees with such force they were ripped up by the roots. The hunting party fled in terror of his might, and when the King returned again to the palace, he had it proclaimed that whosoever should bring him the head of the Wild Boar would win the hand of his beautiful daughter, Princess Marline.
I would like to tell of what transpired after—but I cannot continue this tale without beginning another.
There once lived, in a certain royal city, a Maiden whose parents cast her from the home so that they might continue to feed her twelve younger brothers, for there was not enough bread to go around.
The Maiden wandered about for a time, until she sat herself down and began to weep in bitterness and anger. Thereupon came an Old Woman, all dressed in rags, who said: ‘What saddens you, child?’
The Maiden declared that she wept because she was not inclined to become a beggar.
‘Be not so saddened,’ said the Old Woman. ‘And take this ring of bronze, for whosoever possesses it is fated to find home and hearth at the end of their travels.’
The Maiden gladly accepted the gift and asked, ‘What else is in thy bag, oh wise old woman?’
‘Nothing more for you, my child,’ said the Old Woman.
But the Maiden beseeched her: ‘Let me have a look.’ And though the venerable crone protested, the Maiden reached into the knapsack and withdrew a finely made glove threaded with silver.
‘That garment I shall present to a noble Youth or Prince,’ said the Old Woman.
‘If you would only tell me what it does,’ said the Maiden, ‘I am certain I should use it just as wisely.’
The Old Woman replied, ‘It is not for the likes of you!’ But the Maiden donned the garment as if to prove otherwise, and she vanished instantly.
‘Thief! Thief!’ cried the Old Woman, but none of the passersby could see the thief, and the Maiden walked on, glad at heart. Between the glove she had taken and the bronze ring that had been freely given to her, she now had such items in her possession that would surely make her fortune in the world.
She ventured into the forest and walked until she came to the bank of a stream where a large Wild Boar was resting. He was a formidable creature, so large that upon his back one could have built a hut for five people to comfortably live in, but the Maiden feared him not as she was invisible, and she stopped to drink.
Many heroes, bold and brave, had attempted to hunt the Wild Boar since news of the King’s proclamation spread throughout the country, but the Wild Boar was so great and strong that he tore them all to pieces. When he became a man at night, it was now his habit to dress in the garments of those he had slain and visit a tavern where he was known to win many a drinking contest.
As the Maiden knelt by the stream, a pale moon appeared in the sky above, and she heard a man cry out. She turned her head and saw that the mighty Wild Boar had changed into a youth more beautiful than any she had ever known.
Her amazement was profound, and after the boar-man dressed himself, she followed him to the lively tavern at the forest’s edge.
‘Such a one as he can only be a Prince, and a cursed one at that!’ thought the Maiden. ‘Was it not said that the Prince of this land was devoured by a boar, of all creatures?’
Believing she had arrived at the truth of the matter, she removed her glove of invisibility and presented the boar-man with the bronze ring that the Old Woman had given her.
‘I ask that you accept this and become my husband,’ said the Maiden.
The boar-man laughed heartily. His laughter shook the table, then shook the tavern, and he wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. The Maiden took his large hand in her smaller one and placed the ring on his finger.
‘This token brings good fortune, and shall see us happily married,’ said she.
‘A most amusing jest,’ replied the boar-man. But when he attempted to return the ring, he found it could not be removed and was quite vexed. Seeing as there was nothing to be done, he left the tavern and went to sleep in a bed of brambles.
When morning came, the Wild Boar felt his tusks were not where they should be, and when he held up a hand to shield himself from the sun’s rays, there shone the bronze ring on his finger. Day had dawned, yet he had not returned to his proper form. And I will gladly speak of what occurred thereafter, if you would listen to another story first.
There was once a King whose daughter Marline was so wise, his chief advisors heeded her every word, and no decrees could be carried out had they not first gained her approval. This King was discontented, for though he preferred drinks of wine to matters of governance, his pride would not have it said that his daughter ruled better than he. Thus it became his habit to issue proclamations regarding how the Princess was to be wed.
‘Had she a husband to attend to, perhaps she would not meddle so in my kingdom’s affairs,’ thought the King to himself.
He first promised his daughter’s hand in marriage to the suitor who could climb the tallest tower ever built. When that yielded no bridegroom, he offered her to the one who told the greatest joke ever heard. Then to he who painted the greatest mural on a palace wall. To he who brewed the best mead. To he who lifted a rock that looked to be quite heavy. To he who spoke with snakes. And to whoever could turn the Queen’s stone statue back into living flesh (for the King would have it known that she was cursed into that state, not that she had gone to live with the King of Another Country).
Desiring with her whole heart not to marry, and especially not to marry one capable of such tasks, Princess Marline devised a plan by which she could evade a most unfortunate match. She gathered together the swiftest, strongest, cleverest servants in all the land to form her Secret Royal Guard, and had them fulfill, one by one, the King’s proclamations. Whenever the King offered Princess Marline to a member of this order, the faithful servant would thank him for the honor but refuse, saying he must continue with his travels. Each time this occurred, all save the Princess were baffled, shaking their heads in amazement.
Then came a day when the King decreed that the Princess would marry whosoever managed to kill the last boar in the forest, a beast said to be so large that upon his back one could have built a hut for five people to comfortably live in. The Princess’s Secret Royal Guard looked into the matter, but determined the task to be impossible. The Princess thought nothing more of it, and set out for a land in which she had matters of trade to attend to. However, she had not been long in those parts when one of her loyal servants sought her out.
‘My lady,’ said he, ‘I have news from the royal court. The most astonishing events have taken place since thy departure.’
The servant revealed that there had come before the King a married couple. The Husband was large and surly, while the Wife appeared in no way remarkable, yet the words she spoke left the courtiers in uproar.
She declared that, until recently, her Husband had been the very same Wild Boar whose death was sought by countless heroes desiring the Princess’s hand in marriage. With the power of a token bestowed upon her by a wise Old Woman all dressed in rags, the Wife had restored the Wild Boar to his true form—that of the long-lost Prince. For she believed the child had not been devoured by a boar, but bewitched into the very creature suspected of slaying him!
At first none could accept the Wife’s story, but the King said to the Husband, ‘Show me thy right ear.’ When the Husband turned his head to the side, the King leapt from his seat with a cry, for there was a scar in the same place where he had injured the Wild Boar with his rifle.
‘Such a one as he can only be the Prince,’ said the King, ‘For I knew my son at heart when we met in the forest, and that is why my shot went wide!’
Upon hearing this news, the Princess Marline returned at once to the palace and went to her father.
‘Do not be a fool,’ said she. ‘Only in household tales are lost princes so easily recovered by maidens deserving of them.’
But the King would not be swayed, so the Princess returned to her quarters and considered carefully what she was now to do. All members of the court had grown attached to the imposters, and it would not be a simple matter to have the couple banished. At length, the Princess decided she must have them killed by the Secret Royal Guard, for her most skilled servants should never fail at such a task. How the Wife and Husband survived is another story altogether.
Long ago, a married couple resided in a palace in great merriment and prosperity, for the Husband was believed to be the long-lost Prince. In reality, the Husband was a Wild Boar who had been enchanted first by a Witch to be a man at night, then by his Wife to be a man always. None but he knew this secret.
Every day the couple walked together at the edge of the forest where a river ran, and it was here that the Secret Royal Guard hid in the trees, armed with rifles and prepared to carry out the Princess’s order to dispose of them.
The Wife looked quite small on her Husband’s arm, which was thick as a tree trunk. He easily lifted her over puddles as they walked and conversed.
‘Husband, tell me what it is you want,’ said the Wife.
‘I want for nothing,’ replied the Husband. ‘I live a life of luxury and ease. I have a house with many servants, all of whom are fine drinking companions. I have the King’s knights, who fight bravely and give me good exercise. Furthermore, I have you, most unexpected of blessings, by my side.’
The Wife was not convinced, and said, ‘I believe still that you are unhappy.’
‘You know not what I feel, and if you continue to insist otherwise, I shall knock down every tree in this forest,’ returned the Husband gruffly.
Just as Princess Marline’s secret royal guardsmen were preparing to strike, the Wife again insisted that she believed her Husband to be unhappy, so he pulled up the nearest tree and swung it about to knock down all the trees surrounding it. Guardsmen were flung far and wide.
‘You did not knock down the entire forest,’ said the Wife, and went home without him.
The guardsmen that survived reported to the Princess what had happened, and she threatened them all with demotions should they not succeed upon a second attempt.
The trusted servants chose this time to lie in wait for the Wife and her Husband in the river, where they would stealthily cause the couple to slip as they passed, tie them up with heavy weights, and see them drowned.
And so it happened that the couple came along, walking hand-in-hand but bickering once again.
‘I only wish for you to be content,’ the Wife was saying.
‘I am satisfied! I am happy!’ said the Husband. ‘Why should I be otherwise?’
‘Because we are married, yet you do not love me.’
‘I will not suffer you to tell me what I feel,’ said the Husband. ‘If you tell me so once more, I swear I shall drain the river.’
When the Wife and Husband stood close to the water, the Secret Royal Guard prepared to seize them, but at this moment the Wife repeated that the Husband did not love her. He then took up a boulder as large as himself and flung it into the river with such force it ended the lives of many of the Princess’s skilled servants, and those that were not killed were washed away by great waves.
‘You did not drain the entire river,’ said the Wife, and she gathered several fish that were flailing about to give the cook for their supper.
When Princess Marline learned that her guards had again failed, she was overcome by a fit of rage and threw belongings about her room until she broke a mirror that was on the wall. The mirror expelled terrible groans and requested medical attention, but the Princess paid it no mind, shouting: ‘We are facing a third attempt! Why is it that nothing of consequence may occur unless it is endeavored thrice?’
By degrees, the Princess collected herself, and this time devised a plan by which they would surely succeed.
The next day, the Secret Royal Guard apprehended the Wife and took her to the highest tower of the palace. There, they demanded she write a letter to her husband instructing him to begin walking without her, and they threatened her life so that she would comply. The letter was taken by the fastest messenger, and the guardsmen were prepared to kill the Wife, but she found an opportunity to don her glove of invisibility, finely made and threaded with silver. She left her captors bewildered, as she hastened down the tower’s steps.
Meanwhile, the Husband strolled over green fields, far from the castle, to the border of the forest where the river ran. He came upon Princess Marline, who had laid out a feast upon a blanket sewn with precious stones, and she greeted him warmly, asking what he was doing there.
‘I am walking by the forest as I do daily, but traveling at quite a slow pace,’ said he. ‘I am waiting for my Wife to catch up.’
The Princess gestured for him to be seated beside her, saying, ‘Dear Brother, we have been apart nearly all our lives, and I am sure we have much to discuss. Stop with me awhile and have some wine while we wait for thy wife.’
The Husband’s eyes fell upon the brimming cup in her hand, and he judged this to be an agreeable course of action. While the Princess sipped daintily, he drank down a bottle, then another. He began to feel tired, and thought the hot sun was getting to him, so the Husband lay down to rest and requested that the Princess awaken him when his Wife arrived.
The Husband then sank into a profound stupor, for Princess Marline had served him wine mixed with a sleeping draught. Now that he lay defenseless, she whisked a knife from her bodice, and would have driven the blade into his heart had not the Wife come running and leapt upon her at that very moment. The weapon fell, and it cut off the finger bearing the Husband’s bronze wedding ring.
He awoke with a cry of agony, which became a hog’s squeal. Without the ring and in the light of day, the Husband was once again a Wild Boar the size of a hill. In his frenzy, he trampled the wine cups, the blanket sewn with precious stones, and the Princess Marline into pulp. Only the light-footed Maiden survived to witness him rushing into the forest, uttering plaintive cries at the pain of his severed dew claw.
Heavy with sadness, she returned to the palace, where she informed the King of all that had transpired. The monarch at first thought to punish the Maiden for her hand in his daughter’s death, but one of the secret royal guardsmen came forth and truthfully revealed what the Princess had ordered him to do, for he regretted his involvement in her murderous schemes. The King was deeply dismayed to learn of Marline's misdeeds, and chose to adopt the Maiden such that she would inherit the Kingdom upon his death—for indeed, the Prince was not expected to return while he had the blood of his sister on his hooves.
Some time later, the servant from the Secret Royal Guard who had made his confession to the King asked the Maiden to marry him. She deemed him a capable man eager to cast aside his past, and so she accepted. That is yet another story remaining to be told.
Once upon a time, a woman and her Second Husband lived happily in the palace of the King, her adopted father. They enjoyed peace and moderate comfort, though the Kingdom had descended into chaos without Princess Marline to rightly govern affairs of state.
The woman and her Second Husband had three children, and she watched each of them grow into fine youths and a Maiden eager to go forth on their own adventures. One day, as the Mother was walking hand in hand with her young daughter along the forest’s edge, she saw the head of a great boar appear between the leaves. He was so large that upon his back, one could have built a hut for herself, her Second Husband, and their children to comfortably live in.
‘Come away, Daughter,’ said the Mother. ‘There is a beast in the woods.’
‘Ah, little Wife, do not go!’ said the Wild Boar, ‘For I have been gone some time, but have you truly forgotten me?’
The Mother said that she had indeed forgotten him and had not recognized him, but tears came to her eyes, thus she hastened to fashion an excuse: ‘I am saddened to see you are once again a boar, when I had for a time broken thy curse.’
‘There is no reason for sorrow, then,’ said the Wild Boar. ‘For now you see me in my true form. When we first met, I was cursed to appear as a man only at night, for witches sometimes enchant forest animals to be their servants. But that is another story.’
Hearing this, the Mother began to shed tears in earnest, and try as she might her Daughter could not comfort her.
‘I have searched across the wide world for an end to my sorry state,’ said the Wild Boar. ‘Now, at last, I am my true self day and night. I miss nothing from the world of men, save thy good company, which is why I have come to offer you this ring.’
Upon the ground was a ring woven from willow twigs, which the Mother took up.
‘Will you be my dear wife once more?’ asked the Boar.
‘Let me be thine, and you are forever mine,’ said she, placing the ring upon her finger.
At once, she became a lovely female boar, and the two beasts went away together, leaving the Daughter much astonished.
The Daughter’s older brothers cursed their Mother when they heard what had happened, and the Second Husband was very sad, for he could not understand his wife’s decision. The Daughter felt much the same, but found herself telling the story of her Mother and the Wild Boar time and time again. With each retelling, the bitterness faded from her heart. Somewhere in a distant land, she lifted her cup and wished them well, wherever they might be.
But I do not know any stories about the Daughter, and I hope she will tell them herself in time. I grow weary, and I seek a forest glade to lie in…
Madison Jozefiak is a fiction writer from Boston, MA. She graduated from Colgate University in upstate New York with a degree in English and creative writing. Her short fiction also appears in The Baltimore Review, Thin Air Magazine, Willow Springs Magazine, and Pinch Journal Online, among others.
I do love a good tale of a boar prince. I particularly loved the repeating description, "so large that upon his back one could have built a hut for five people to comfortably live in," and how the narrative wove in upon itself.
This is enchanting! Subtle humor and deliciously written. I am going to re-read many times.