The Devil's Wife

Above a small village at the edge of a thick forest stood a castle on a hill. It had once been full of life and music, but the noble couple who lived there sent their sons off one by one to a great war. They themselves faded away, leaving just an aging caretaker behind, and although the castle remained in good repair, brambles grew up around it.

After many years, the great war became a greater war, and a new lord took over the castle. He came at night under the darkness of a new moon, dragging his misshapen shadow behind him. He kept the windows shuttered even by day and the portals locked. The only things to escape the thick walls were strange inhuman cries.

Because the lord’s arrival coincided with the beginning of an endless summer, it was believed he brought the heat with him straight from hell and that he must be the devil himself. The villagers never wondered at this or thought it could be the ceaseless battles that scorched the fields and dried out the crops. It was the new lord who caused leaves to wither on branches, rivers to shrink to streams and fruit to shrivel on the vines.

Only under the shade of the cold castle walls could berries be found thriving in the brambles. It was further proof of the devil’s power that he could direct the heat and spare what fell under his protection. The berries were plentiful and ripe because no one dared go near the dreaded place except for a young woman so poor she could not afford to be afraid.

Her father sent her to pick a basketful of the good fruit. He had two other daughters he loved more and would not miss her if she didn’t return to their little hovel. The young woman’s dress was old and worn, her hands rough from work, her dark hair long and wild without a comb to pin it. Like a flower which hasn’t blossomed it was impossible to tell if she was ugly or pretty.

She went on her way with her basket. The brambles were thick and the work was hard and slow. The angry thorns cut into the flesh of her arms, but she made no sound so as not to awaken the devil in the castle. Hungry as she was, not a single berry went into her mouth until the basket was full, and then finally she tasted one. The heat had painted her cheeks pink and now the fruit turned her lips red, and she seemed suddenly to bloom.

She did not know how late it had become until the sun sank and the castle threw a dark shadow over her. She heard a rough voice calling from high up in the tower. “I smell something good. Would you bring me my supper and fetch me something sweet from the brambles?”

The young woman looked at her arms. The devil must have smelled the blood that welled up from the scratches like unspent tears. He was going to eat her! She cried out in her distress. A shutter in the tower window opened a crack, and she heard a low rumbling growl, like the lazy purr of a cat pleased to have found a mouse. The castle door opened, and the white-haired caretaker came hurrying out through the courtyard towards the brambles to where the young woman stood.

With another cry she ran away. Only when she reached her home, breathless and weeping did her father remind her with the back of his hand that she had left the basket behind.

“But the devil smelled my blood and demanded something sweet to eat!” she explained.

Her sisters laughed at her. “You have nothing to fear. You would leave a bad taste in his mouth, and he would spit you out,” they told her.

The next day, the young woman’s father sent her back to the castle to collect the basket of berries. When she arrived, she found the basket where she had left it. The berries were gone, but at the bottom was a gold coin.

She had never seen one before and she picked it up and was so distracted she didn’t hear the caretaker approach.

“You ran away before my master could greet you,” he said.

“You mean before he could eat me!”

The shutter flapped in the high tower, and she heard a dangerous rumble. She turned to run, but the caretaker reached through a gap in the brambles and placed a gentle hand on her arm.

“That is nonsense,” the old man said.

“Yes,” she agreed. “My sisters said I would not taste good, and he would spit me back out.” She said this loudly so that the devil in the tower would hear it. The growling purr came throbbing from the tower and vibrated in the air around her.

The old man sighed. “He asks that you pick him another basket.”

“If it keeps his belly full, I would be happy to.”

The old man began to walk away. “Wait!” she called after him. “You forgot your shiny coin.”

“That is for you, for the berries.”

“But the brambles had all the trouble of making them. They cost me nothing.”

He would not take the coin from her, so she put it in the pocket of her ragged dress and began to pick the berries. The shutter in the window in the tower did not move, and she felt the weight of the coin in her pocket and forgot her fear and began to sing as she worked. When the basket was full, the caretaker came from the castle and gave her two coins.

“Your master cannot count,” she said and looked nervously up to the shuttered window as a low grumble escaped the narrow opening.

The caretaker smiled. “My master asked me to give you a coin for the song.”

“But a song is easy to make, and it cost me nothing.”

“Then maybe you can make some more tomorrow,” he said. And she went on her way with the coins jingling in her pocket.

Her father was very happy to see the coins and take them. Her sisters were very jealous.

“The devil is giving father money for our sister, the way a butcher pays the farmer for the cow he will carve up,” they said.

The young woman was afraid, but she was also dutiful, and her father sent her back to the castle the next day. She found the empty basket in its place, but no coins. The devil has already paid for me, she thought and will butcher me this night.

Just then the caretaker appeared. “My master will give you the coins himself when he meets you,” he said.

“You mean when he eats me!”

“He will not eat you,” he said with a sigh. “Will you pick another basket?”

She agreed, hoping the bright red juice of the berries would satisfy him over her blood. When she was finished, the caretaker brought her through a gap in the brambles and into the courtyard to the portal. She shivered as she crossed the threshold into the dank cold castle.

He led her to a large hall where a fire burned in the grate. He invited her to sit at a long table where a great feast was laid out. “You will have to wait until it is dark. My master does not want you to look upon his face. He asks that you eat your fill,” he said, before he left her there alone.

She was afraid to touch the food. She thought about what her sisters had said. She thought about the way the butcher feeds his cows grain to make them tasty. Finally, the fire in the grate burned down and she went to stand by the hearth and kept watch until the embers winked out. What little light left in the windows soon fled for its life.

In the darkness the devil came to her as silently as a cat.