Читать книгу East Of The Sun And West Of The Moon - Nancy Madore - Страница 3

There once lived a man who was so poor that he could barely feed his family. They lived in a rundown cottage in a remote village, with no prospects for the future.

One night, as the great North Wind came whistling through the woods, shaking the tiny cabin where they lived, an enormous white bear suddenly appeared at their door.

“Good evening,” said the bear.

“Good evening,” replied the man. Though he had not encountered a talking bear before, it was well-known in those parts that animals who spoke were enchanted. It was, in fact, a great honor to be addressed by such a creature.

The man’s family hovered about the room gaping at the peculiar visitor, anxious to know what business had brought him to their humble cottage.

“I have come for your firstborn daughter,” the bear announced without preamble. “If she will come away with me, she will have everything she wishes for, and, what’s more, I will make you and the rest of your family as rich as you are now poor.”

Beguiled by the words of the white bear, the eldest daughter pleaded with her mother and father to let her go—for her parents were against it, insisting that it would bring bad luck on them to give up their daughter for wealth. But at last they relented, as the young woman would not be denied the adventure.

Packing took no amount of time, since the poor girl owned nearly nothing in the world, and bravely she kissed each member of her family goodbye and climbed onto the back of the huge white bear. She barely had time for one last backward glance at her family before she was abruptly whisked away, with extraordinary speed, to a large white castle. There, servants rushed to and fro to attend to her arrival. Everything happened so quickly that she could scarcely take in her extravagant surroundings, and all of a sudden she felt terribly afraid. What was to become of her?

Perceiving her anxiety, the bear instructed a kindly old servant woman to take the girl to her bedchamber. But before she left him he advised her not to be afraid, assuring her that the castle was indeed enchanted and that, for as long as she remained there, all of her innermost desires would be immediately brought about. He handed her a little golden bell, adding that if, in fact, the castle failed in this tall order, all she had to do was to ring the bell while wishing for anything within the castle walls, and it would be immediately done for her. Then, with a polite bow, the bear left her with the old servant woman, who chattered away amicably as she led the girl to her bedchamber. What the servant spoke about she could not have said, so preoccupied was she, but the old lady’s sociable manner had the effect of calming her nerves.

Inside her bedchamber, she first noticed the bed, a massive furnishing of elaborately carved mahogany dressed in lavish silks. Next she spied a dressing table, as splendidly adorned as the bed and laid out with solid-gold utensils for her to use.

At one end of the chamber there stood a series of wardrobes, each so large that it exceeded, in size, the entire bedroom she had formerly shared with all of her siblings back in her father’s cottage. The wardrobes were stocked with beautiful gowns of many styles and colors, all of which were made to fit her just so. She selected a nightgown that was finer than any item of clothing she had ever before possessed and, wondering how the rest of her family had fared, she settled into the comfortable bedding that had been prepared just for her.

Her previous anxiety was for the most part gone now, but upon laying her head on the velvety pillow, she was overcome with a feeling of restlessness. Everything was so perfect and yet she felt a strange emptiness and longing.

Was she homesick? No, for although she loved her family, she was of an age when the solitude of private rooms, with her own possessions, was more than welcome! Besides, she could remember feeling this way in her father’s cottage, too. Back then she had thought it was simply discontent, brought about by her passionate desire for nicer things, but here was the sensation again, stronger than ever, even among such incredible luxury and wealth. She still suffered with that same yearning, without knowing exactly what it was she wanted.

Before she had time to consider this at any great length, the door to her bedchamber abruptly opened and closed, and she heard someone enter her room. She had extinguished the candle, and no moon or starlight could creep through the thick velvet curtains that covered the windows, so she was completely unable to observe who it was.

She was not immediately alarmed, however, supposing that it was only the kindly servant woman, returning to tuck her in for the night or, perhaps, even, perceiving her unspoken and melancholy longing, the woman had duly fetched the vague thing and promptly brought it to her! For hadn’t the bear promised that her every wish would be immediately granted?

But there was none of the servant’s silly chattering this time; no, not even an answer when the girl inquired, “Who is it, please?”

She slowly sat up in the bed and instinctively turned her head toward the intruder, straining to detect the meaning of the soft shuffling sounds she now heard. As she stared into the blackness her eyes opened wider. Their sightless orbs darted back and forth in sudden terror.

At length it occurred to her that the trespasser had undressed. Then she heard someone approach the bed. She was hardly able to breathe, she was so terrified, but she somehow managed to whisper, “Who is it?”

Still the stranger said nothing.

“Who is it?” she repeated, more frantically. “Is it you, Mr. Bear?” But even as she asked this, she realized it could not be so, for the bear did not wear clothes or shoes, as had this uninvited visitor.

The question was once again ignored as, very leisurely, the stranger sat upon the bed. She was now certain that it could not be the huge white bear, for the personage who sat next to her on the bed was the precise size of a man. She had seen no men in the castle (every servant she had encountered was a woman), and so she had no clues as to his identity.

She began to disentangle her legs from inside the bedding, thinking to bolt from the bed, when suddenly a hand reached out and gently grasped hold of her hair.

She gasped and repeated her request. “Please tell me who you are!”

Tightening his grip on her hair, the man carefully wound it around his hand slowly, round and round, until he reached her scalp. Then he gently pulled his hand downward, forcing her head and body back down on the bed and underneath him. Thus he held her head firmly as his lips approached hers.

“It is I,” he replied in a soft whisper, lightly brushing her lips with his as he spoke. “Your lover, beckoned.”

In the next instant his lips were pressing gently against hers, opening her mouth. His warm lips and probing tongue seemed to answer a calling from somewhere deep within her. She was astounded by her body’s immediate response to him. Even so, the thought of a complete stranger holding her thus filled her with horror. He lifted his mouth from hers and began soft gentle kisses along the line of her jaw.

“I must know who you are,” she murmured. “The bear…”

“I am the reason you are here,” he whispered between kisses. “And you—you are the reason I am here.”

“But…” She had so many questions, but his mouth once again silenced her.

From his position over her and the way in which he held her, she knew that he was a large, muscular man. He smelled of shaving cream and light cologne. His hair was still damp from his bath. But who was he?

His kiss was so intense that she wasn’t even conscious at first that she was kissing him back. A warm feeling trickled up from deep within her womb. She tried to hold on to logic and reason.

“Please,” she begged, “light a lantern that I might at least see you.”

But he neither answered her plea nor permitted the light. He merely continued to devour her lips and flushed skin. Although his body was covering hers, he held himself up slightly so that his weight would not crush her. Still, he remained close enough that she could feel him hardening above her. Her own

desire was rapidly becoming a stronger force in her surrender than his hold on her hair.