Young Roland

Three brothers near the castle, playing ball
In the morning light,
And Lady Ellen, their sister,
Watched their game with delight.

Roland caught the ball with his knee,
Kicked it with his toe,
Struck it harder—and the ball
Flew behind the church, lo!

Ellen dashed after the ball,
Swift and full of glee,
Ellen ran after the ball—
And never returned, you see.

The brothers searched day and night,
Everywhere they could,
Weeping bitterly,
But Ellen was gone for good.

Then the eldest brother went to the wizard Merlin and asked if he knew where to find Lady Ellen.

"The fair Lady Ellen," replied Merlin, "has been taken by the elves—because she walked around the church widdershins, that is, against the sun's course. Now she is in the Dark Tower of the Elf King; much courage is needed to rescue her from there."

"Let me perish," exclaimed the eldest brother, "but I will save her, if it is possible!"

"It is possible," said the wizard Merlin. "But woe to any man born of woman—warrior or knight—who dares to do this without knowing beforehand what he must do and what he must avoid."

The eldest brother of Lady Ellen was a brave knight; danger could not stop him.
He begged the wizard to tell him everything he must do and avoid to free his sister. He repeated and memorized every word of the wizard and set off to the land of the elves.

And long they waited in the castle,
For the day the brother would return,
But—woe to loving hearts!—
He never came back.

At last, the middle brother grew tired of waiting. Like the eldest, he went to the wizard Merlin, asked him everything, and set off to seek the land of the elves.

And long they waited for the day,
When the middle brother would return,
But—woe to loving hearts!—
He never came back.

Then it was time for young Roland—the youngest of Lady Ellen's brothers—to set out on his journey. He came to his mother, the kind queen, and asked for her blessing. At first, she refused to let him go—for he was her last remaining son, and her dearest. But Roland pleaded and begged until she gave him her blessing. She handed him his father's sword—a blade that strikes true—and enchanted it with an ancient spell of victory.

Young Roland bid farewell to the kind queen, his mother, and made his way to the cave of the wizard Merlin.

"O wise Merlin," he said, "do not refuse to tell me once more how a man born of woman—warrior or knight—can free Lady Ellen and my two brothers from the power of the Elf King?"

"Very well, my son," replied the wizard. "I will tell you what you must do and what you must avoid. This is what you must do: whoever speaks to you in the land of the elves, you must draw your sword and strike off their head. This is what you must avoid: you must not eat a crumb of food or drink a drop of water in the land of the elves, no matter how hunger or thirst torment you. Whoever eats a crumb or drinks a drop will remain forever in the cursed land and never see the light of day again."

Young Roland repeated and memorized these words, thanked Merlin, and set off. He walked and walked, covering a great distance, until he came upon a herd of horses grazing in a meadow. By their wild, gleaming eyes, he recognized them as the horses of the Elf King and knew he was close to his goal.

"Tell me," he asked the herdsman, "where can I find the Dark Tower of the Elf King?"

"I will not tell you. Go further, and you will meet a cowherd; perhaps he will tell you," replied the herdsman.

Without another word, Roland drew his sword—the blade that strikes true—and struck off the herdsman's head. He went further and met a cowherd with his herd, asking the same question.

"Go further," replied the cowherd. "You will meet a goose girl; perhaps she will tell you."

Again, Roland drew his sword and struck off the cowherd's head. He went further and saw an old woman tending geese. He asked:

"How can I find the Dark Tower of the Elf King?"

"Go further," replied the goose girl, "until you see a round green hill, rising in steps from base to summit. Walk around it three times widdershins and repeat three times:

'Open, gates! Let me pass!'

On the third time, the gates will open, and you will enter."

Roland thanked the old woman and hurried on his way, but he remembered the wizard's warning, drew his sword, and struck off her head.

And he did well, for they were all shapeshifters and phantoms sent by the Elf King to lure him into a trap.

He went further and soon saw before him a green hill, rising in steps from base to summit. He walked around it three times widdershins and repeated three times:

'Open, gates! Let me pass!'

On the third time, the gates opened, let him in, and clanged shut behind him. Roland found himself in darkness. Yet it was not complete darkness, but rather a dim twilight. A faint, flickering light came from nowhere—for there were no windows, torches, or candles in the Dark Tower. A long corridor stretched ahead, its vaults of translucent stone glittering with veins of mica and golden pyrite. Though surrounded by stone, the air inside the hill remained warm, as it always does in the land of the elves.

Roland reached the end of the corridor and saw iron-bound double doors. At his touch, they swung wide open, revealing an astonishing sight—a vast hall, so spacious it seemed to stretch the full width and height of the green hill.

The hall's dome was supported by mighty columns adorned with gold and silver carvings, and between the columns hung garlands of flowers made—what do you think?—of diamonds, emeralds, and all manner of precious stones. The crowns of the high arches sparkled with clusters of gems. In the center, where the arches met, hung a lamp of pure, hollow pearl, transparent and glowing, with a giant red carbuncle spinning and shining inside. Its rays spread through the hall, painting the air and walls in fiery sunset hues.

The hall was adorned with wondrous luxury; at its far end, on a bed of purple satin and silk, sat Lady Ellen, combing her golden hair with a silver comb. But her face was still and impassive, like a stone mask. At Roland's appearance, she did not move, but spoke in a hollow, sepulchral voice:

"Foolish, wretched, simple soul! Why are you here? What do you seek?"

Roland's first impulse was to rush to his sister and embrace her, but her harsh words held him back. Suddenly, he remembered the lesson of the great wizard Merlin. Without hesitation, Roland drew his father's sword, closed his eyes, and struck with all his might at the apparition in the guise of Lady Ellen.

And when he looked again, trembling and horrified—oh joy!—before him stood his sister, alive and unharmed. Tears streamed from her eyes as she pressed Roland to her breast and spoke with deep sorrow:

"Oh, why, dear brother,
Did you leave your home?
You do not have a hundred lives,
To sacrifice but one.

Your sister will weep for you,
And your mother will mourn;
When the sorcerer-king comes,
You will be forlorn!"

They sat together, and young Roland told his sister of his adventures, while Lady Ellen revealed that their two elder brothers had also reached the Dark Tower of the Elf King, but the cunning sorcerer had enchanted them and entombed them alive. Alas! They had failed to follow Merlin's instructions precisely, unable to strike with their swords when faced with the apparition of their sister.

They talked for a long time, and after a while, young Roland felt the hunger from his journey and asked his sister to bring him food.

Lady Ellen looked at him sadly but said nothing—for the enchantment still held sway over her. She rose and brought bread and milk on a golden tray.

Roland reached for the bread and milk, but at the last moment, he looked up at his sister and saw such sorrow in her eyes that, struck by a sudden realization, he leapt to his feet, threw the tray to the floor, and exclaimed:

"Not a drop will I drink, not a crumb will I eat, until I free Lady Ellen and my brothers!"

Like thunder, a voice roared in response, like a whirlwind it howled—the doors burst open, and the Elf King stormed into the hall:

"Ugh! Fie! Ugh! Hah!
I smell the stench of man!
Whether he fights or flees,
I'll dash his brains out—can!"

"Try it, fiendish spawn!" shouted Roland, drawing his blade, the one that strikes true, and lunged forward.

Long and fiercely they fought; at last, Roland brought the Elf King to his knees and forced him to beg for mercy.

"I will spare you if you lift the enchantment from my sister, free my brothers, and let us leave this place unharmed."

"Agreed," replied the Elf King. He rose, opened his chest, and took out a crystal vial filled with blood-red potion. With this potion, he anointed the ears, eyelids, nostrils, lips, and fingertips of the two brothers lying in golden tombs. They awoke and stood as if nothing had happened.

Then the sorcerer whispered a spell over Ellen. And so, the three brothers and their beloved sister left the vast hall bathed in scarlet sunset light, walked through the long corridor with its shimmering stone vaults of mica and golden pyrite, and the heavy gates of the Dark Tower clanged open, letting them free.

They returned home to the kind queen, their mother, and from then on, Lady Ellen took care never to walk widdershins around the church again.

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Young Roland

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