The Flying Ebony Horse

The horse could not eat grass. It could not neigh, and in all its life it had never taken a single step on its own. It was only a block of glossy black ebony, carved into shape and fitted with a saddle and bridle, standing as still as a statue. It sounds absurd, yet this wooden horse could fly. It flew higher than the clouds and faster than any bird, over mountains and seas, to any place its rider wished to go.

The old tales of Persia and Arabia are full of magic that comes from a wish, a worn old lamp, or a spirit shut away at the bottom of the sea. The tale of the ebony horse is quite different. Its magic was not sent down by any god. It was born from human hands. A gifted craftsman had hidden two secret pegs in the horse's neck. And those two tiny pegs would sweep a prince, a princess and several kingdoms into an adventure no one could have foreseen.

The story begins on the very day of Nedrouz, the oldest and most joyful New Year festival in Persia. From morning on, the king sat in the heart of his capital, Schiraz, watching his people celebrate. The sun had just sunk low, and the king was about to dismiss his court, when a stranger from faraway India came up before the throne. He was leading a horse with a splendid saddle and bridle, so lifelike that it matched a real horse down to every hair of its mane.

The king glanced at it and shook his head. A clever imitation of a horse was something any good craftsman could make. But the stranger bowed low and said that its worth did not lie in its looks. A rider had only to sit on its back and wish to be somewhere, however far away, and in a moment the rider would be there.

The king loved every strange thing in the world. He pointed to a towering mountain about three leagues from the capital and told the stranger to fly to its foot and bring back a palm leaf. The words had barely left his lips when the stranger leapt into the saddle and turned a peg set in the horse's neck, right beside the saddle. The wooden horse shot into the sky like a flash of lightning and vanished in an instant, too fast for even the sharpest eyes to follow. About 15 minutes later he was back. He brought the horse down at the foot of the throne and laid the palm leaf before the king.

The whole court gasped in wonder. As for the king, he wanted the horse at once, so badly that in his heart he already thought of it as his own. He told the stranger to name his price. But the price the stranger named left the court stunned for a moment, and then everyone burst out laughing. He asked for no gold or silver, and no walled city either. He asked to marry the princess, the king's daughter.

Prince Firouz Schah, the king's son and the princess's older brother, boiled with anger at such an arrogant request. He told his father that his sister could never be traded away like that. But the king still hesitated. He feared that if he refused, the stranger would take the horse and offer it to some other king. So he told the prince to go and see the horse for himself, and to try riding it.

The stranger hurried over in delight to help the prince into the saddle, and began to explain how to steer it. But before he could finish, the prince turned the peg on the horse's neck himself, just as he had seen it done a moment before. The wooden horse sprang straight up into the sky, carrying off the impatient prince, and vanished among the evening clouds.

The whole court stood waiting, but there was no sign of the prince coming back. Trembling, the stranger dropped to his knees. The prince had been in too much of a hurry, he said, and had not heard the most important thing of all. To come down, he had to find a second peg. The king was both frightened and angry. What if the horse plunged straight into the sea? The stranger quickly answered that the horse could cross the seas, and would carry its rider wherever he wished to go. The king had him thrown into prison and set a limit of exactly three months. If by then the prince had not come home safely, and not a single word of him had arrived, the stranger would pay with his own life.

Meanwhile, high above, Prince Firouz Schah was climbing higher and higher. He flew for about an hour, so high that when he looked down he could no longer tell the mountains from the plains. When he wanted to come down, he turned the first peg the other way, but the horse took no notice. The wind roared in his ears, and the ground had long since disappeared. His heart pounded. He suddenly remembered that he had not waited for any instructions, and he understood at once that he was in danger. Luckily, he did not panic. He felt his way inch by inch around the horse's neck, searching patiently, until his fingers touched a tiny peg close to the horse's right ear. He tried turning it. The horse began to sink, slowly and far more gently than it had risen.

By now it was pitch dark and nothing could be seen below, so the prince let the horse find its own way. Only after midnight did the four wooden hooves touch something flat. He climbed down, hungry and worn out, for he had eaten nothing since morning. Feeling his way in the dark, he realized that he was standing on the roof terrace of a grand palace, with a marble balustrade running all around it. In one corner was a small door that opened onto a staircase leading down.

The prince crept down step by step. Through a half-open doorway he saw a large, dimly lit room where guards lay fast asleep, each with his sword right beside him. He understood that these men must be guarding the sleep of a princess or some other noble person. Light glowed from behind a curtain at the far end of the room. He quietly drew the curtain aside, stepped into a magnificent chamber, and saw a princess sound asleep.

He knelt beside her and lightly touched her sleeve. The princess opened her eyes, too astonished to say a word at the sight of a richly dressed stranger kneeling there. The prince quickly bowed his head very low and spoke very softly. Please do not be afraid. I am the prince of Persia, the son of its king. Only yesterday I was at a festival with my father, and today I have lost my way in a land I do not know. All I ask is your protection.

She was the eldest daughter of the king of Bengal, resting at a palace her father had built just for her, not far from his capital. When she had heard him out, she answered gently that here in Bengal, hospitality was prized no less than in Persia. Then she told her maids to prepare a room and lay out a meal, so that the stranger could eat his fill and sleep in peace.

The next morning, the princess sent for the prince and heard his story from the beginning. There was the Nedrouz festival, the strange wooden horse, the stranger's arrogant price, and the hasty flight that had carried him all the way here. The tale was so strange that she never tired of hearing it. Then the two of them walked in the gardens together, feasted together and went hunting together. The princess kept finding one reason after another to keep her guest a little longer, and so two whole months slipped by almost unnoticed.

Then one day, the prince thought of his father, waiting and waiting for news of his son, and his heart ached. He told the princess honestly that he had to go home. He asked her to come with him, so that he could properly ask both their fathers for permission to marry. The princess fell silent and lowered her eyes. But that gentle silence was her consent. And the one who planned the journey so discreetly that no one in the palace knew of it was the princess herself.

At first light the next morning, while the whole palace was still asleep, the two of them climbed to the roof terrace. The prince mounted first and helped the princess up behind him, her hands holding tight to his belt. He turned the peg, and the ebony horse left the ground, carrying them both toward Persia. This time the prince knew how to handle it. Only two and a half hours later, the capital of Persia appeared below them. He did not land in the great square, nor did he go straight to the royal palace. Instead he came down at a country house outside the city. He asked the princess to rest there, promising to come back for her with a welcome worthy of her. Then he went into the city alone to see his father.

People along the way recognized the prince and cheered loudly, for everyone had believed he would never come back. In the palace, his father and the whole court were still dressed in mourning for him. At the sound of his son's voice, the king trembled with joy, threw his arms around him and asked him question after question. The prince told him everything. Then he said that he had promised to marry the princess of Bengal, and he hoped his father would approve. The king gladly agreed at once. He ordered the mourning clothes put away and had drums and horns sound in celebration all over the capital. He also ordered the stranger released from prison, gave him back his horse, and added just one sentence. My son has come home. Take the horse and be gone from here forever.

But as soon as he was out of prison, the stranger asked around and learned the whole story. He learned that the princess of Bengal was at the country house outside the city, waiting to be escorted into the palace. Nearly three months in a dark cell had filled his heart with bitterness, and a plan for revenge took shape at once. He went straight to the country house and told the gatekeeper that he had come on the orders of the king and the prince to fetch the princess on the wooden horse. The gatekeeper saw that the man really had been released, and believed him without the slightest doubt. As for the princess, when she heard that the messenger had been sent by the prince himself, she happily agreed to get on the horse.

The stranger helped her up behind him, turned the peg, and the horse soared into the air. But he did not fly off right away. He deliberately steered the horse across the sky above the capital, just as the king, the prince and the whole court were on their way out to welcome the princess. The whole procession looked up, frozen. Prince Firouz Schah could only stand and watch as the one he loved was carried off before his eyes, farther and farther away, until she vanished over the horizon.

Grief like that could have broken a man. But the prince would not let himself fall. He took off his royal robes and asked for the clothes of a wandering holy man. He took with him a box of pearls and diamonds that he had meant to give her as a gift. That very night he left the capital. He did not know which way to go, and only one thing was certain in his heart. Until he found her, he would not come home.

The wooden horse flew on and on, until it came down in a forest near the capital of Cashmere. The stranger left the princess to rest beside a clear stream and went off to look for food. The princess had thought of running away. But she had eaten almost nothing during the whole flight, and her arms and legs were so weak that she had to stay where she was. When the stranger came back, she ate and got her strength back. Then he began to shout at her, insisting that she must obey him and go with him, without caring at all whether she wanted to. The princess sprang to her feet and cried for help, and her cries rang through the whole forest.

Luckily, those cries reached a party of horsemen returning from a hunt. At their head rode the king of Cashmere himself. He reined in his horse and asked what was happening. The stranger answered insolently that she was his wife, and that it was a private matter no one should meddle in. But the princess spoke up at once. Please do not believe this liar. He is a fearsome sorcerer. This very day he used his enchanted horse to snatch me away from the prince of Persia, the man I am to marry. Before she could finish, tears choked her voice. Seeing her dignified bearing, the king of Cashmere believed her at once. In his anger, he ordered his soldiers to tie the stranger up, take him away and banish him from the kingdom forever. From that day on, no one ever saw him again.

The princess thought she was safe at last. But she had barely escaped one danger when a new worry was lying in wait. The king of Cashmere took her back to his court and gave her a fine palace and attentive servants. She planned to tell him everything the next morning and ask for his help in returning to the prince of Persia. But the moment day broke, drums and horns rang out all over the capital. The king came to tell her that this was music for a wedding, because that very day she would become his wife. He had decided everything himself, without once asking whether she agreed.

The princess was so shaken that she fainted. When she came to, she had made a decision. Whatever happened, she would never break her promise to the prince of Persia. And so she pretended to be mad. She talked nonsense and waved her arms and legs in strange gestures, until the alarmed king hurried out of the room. He ordered the palace maids to take very good care of her.

From then on, physicians from the court, physicians from the city, and then famous healers from the neighboring lands came one after another to treat her. But whenever anyone came near, the princess screamed so wildly that no one dared touch her wrist to take her pulse. A few of them prescribed medicines from a distance. She drank them all without fear, because she knew they were harmless. No one could cure her. After all, there was no real illness to cure. The only remedy lay with the princess herself.

All this time, Prince Firouz Schah, in his holy man's robes, was still wandering from one region to the next, asking everywhere and finding not a single clue. Then one day, in a large city in India, he heard people talking about a princess of Bengal. She had gone mad on the very day she was to marry the king of Cashmere. His heart leapt. He set off for Cashmere at once, and at the first inn he came to in the capital, he heard the whole story in full detail.

The prince bought himself a physician's robe. The long beard he had grown over the months of wandering made him look even more like a famous doctor from a distant land. He went to the palace and asked to try his skill, and he was warmly welcomed. The king led him up to a small room just under the roof. Through a narrow opening there, he could look down into the princess's room without being seen. The prince put his eye to the opening. The princess was sitting there, her eyes full of tears, softly singing a sad song about the one she loved, the one fate had torn from her. That was enough. He knew for certain that her madness was only an act, and that the one in her song was still him.

The physician asked to see the princess alone. The moment she caught sight of a physician's robe, the princess began scolding him and shouting at him to go away. But he did not step back. He came very close, then lowered his voice until it was just loud enough for her to hear. Look closely at me, Princess. I am not a physician. I am the prince of Persia, and I have come to bring you home. At the sound of that voice the princess went still, and then joy lit up her eyes. Quietly, the two of them worked out a plan of escape. The first step was for her to seem suddenly bright and gentle when the king came to visit the next morning.

Sure enough, the next morning the princess was willing to talk, and the king of Cashmere was as happy as if he had struck gold. He was more convinced than ever that the new physician was a genius. The physician then asked how the princess had come to this land. The king told him everything. He mentioned that the enchanted horse was still kept in the treasury as a curiosity, since no one knew how to use it. The prince rejoiced in secret. He respectfully told the king that this very horse was the root of the illness. The princess had ridden the enchanted horse, so some of its magic had lingered in her, and only a special incense ceremony could undo it. He asked the king to have the horse brought out to the great square in front of the palace. The princess should be dressed in her most splendid clothes, so that the whole capital could watch her be cured.

The king agreed to everything. The next morning, news of the marvel spread everywhere, and so many people poured into the square that soldiers had to clear the way. The king sat on a raised stand with his whole court. The princess came out, dressed as splendidly as for a festival, walked slowly up to the ebony horse and sat in the saddle. The physician had braziers of glowing coals set around the horse, then sprinkled fragrant incense into each one with his own hands. Sweet smoke billowed up. He folded his arms across his chest, lowered his head and walked around the horse exactly three times, murmuring words that no one could understand. In truth, he did not understand them either, because he had made them up himself to sound like a spell.

The smoke grew thicker and thicker, until it formed a milky white curtain that hid the horse and everyone near it. That was all he had been waiting for. Quick as a flash, he leapt into the saddle behind the princess, leaned forward and turned the peg. The ebony horse shuddered, left the ground and shot up out of the smoke. And while the whole square was still staring upward in confusion, a voice rang down clearly from the sky. King of Cashmere, when you wish to marry a princess who has come to you for protection, first learn to ask whether she consents.

The ebony horse flew straight back to Persia, and this time it landed right in front of the royal palace, to the cheers of the whole capital. The wedding of Prince Firouz Schah and the princess of Bengal was celebrated with great splendor and ceremony. The king of Persia also sent envoys all the way to Bengal to tell the whole story and ask the permission of the princess's father. And the king of Bengal, learning that his daughter was safe and happy, gladly gave the young couple his blessing.

As for the ebony horse, it stood silent and still once more, as it always had, glossy black and quiet. It still could not eat grass, still could not neigh, and had still never taken a single step on its own. Yet the two small pegs on its neck had been enough to make a whole story. One had carried an impatient prince astray through the night sky. The other, smaller one, tucked away behind the right ear, had brought him and the one he loved across so many lands, safely home to his own door.