The Long, Lost Tale of Derwyndell-for BJ

***This was for an assignment for my Brit Lit class.  We had to copy a genre style that we were studying.  If you want to catch all the subtle Medieval nuances go find the tale of Pwyll on the internet.<---super easy to do.:)  BJ says my wee tale is fine on its own two feet...if you don't mind a bit of weird and unexplained(<---seriously, go look up Pwyll.:). Also as a last note, this tale has found a tender part of my heart so be kind in your comments.  I know that I am not a professional writer by ANY MEANS.

The Long, Lost Tale of Derwyndell
by Clair 

Once upon a time there lived a noble man by the name of Derwyndell.  He was the kindest man in the land, but he was very unhappy.  He had no need of being unhappy for indeed he was blessed with a strong back, and through his hard labors he had built himself up a little piece of land.  By making friends with his neighbor, he had also found in his neighbor’s daughter, a strong, fine country maiden to be his wife.   For a wedding present he had been given one fine cow, and by hard work in the fields had been able to barter some grain for two little, brown milking goats.  He had made his way in the world quite profitably, and yet Derwyndell was unhappy with his lot in life. 

There was another man in the land called Brudwyll. He was a great man who owned vast lands.  Derwyndell saw Brudwell and all the many servants and friends who surrounded him and helped him be happy.  Brudwell had a beautiful wife who was known throughout all the lands round about as the most lovely, most courteous, most devoted woman to her husband.  Brudwell owned one hundred horses of the shiniest black, he owned numerous cows, chickens, and pigs of all varieties. His castle was strong and ready for battle against the enemy and grand enough for rooming all his friends at a feast.  To Derwyndell he was the happiest and most blessed man he could think of.

One day Derwyndell was out, as usual, working hard in the fields when he thought he saw his two goats out of their pen walking toward the woods.  Alarmed at watching what little wealth he had walking away, he ran toward them to try and catch them.  Deeper and deeper into the forest he ran.  Soon he saw that the night was growing dim and the woods were growing darker.  With only the thought of his two precious milking goats Derwyndell ran on.  For two little goats they seemed to not ever tire of running.  On and on they ran.  Soon the light began to grow bright again and Derwyndell left one moment for thinking how strange that was. He ran on.  Ahead he saw a fork in the road.  Derwyndell began to panic as he picked up speed to catch the naughty goats before they each took a different fork.  With one mighty leap, using every last ounce of stretngth he had left from running for hours and hours,  Derwyndell stretched out his arms to the farthest they could go and missed the goats by a mere wit. Devastated, Derwyndell saw them each take a different fork in the road and he ran after the fattest and hopefully the slowest. 

            With more determination than ever and with despair in his heart over the loss of at least one goat, he ran on.  While running with the strength of a lost man, his head began to be filled with thoughts of all that he had never had in his life up to this point.  The lands he was not born with, and the horses and servants.  His time was not even his own as he had to work day and night to keep his meager life going, especially with the added weight of taking care of a wife.  Tears began to glisten in his eyes as he ran and ran. 

            If Derwyndell had been paying attention to more than his thoughts he would have noticed that the goat was now nowhere to be seen.  He would have also noticed how the leaves on the tree were so green one might call them blue.  In fact they were blue.  Blue and velvety soft.  The branches and trunks were so white they were almost silvery in the moonlight. All was quiet, except for the panting of Derwyndell and the silent sobs that broke out when he could take it no more and fell to the earth.

            When Derwyndell’s sobs quieted to hollow breathing he finally looked up and realized he was sitting in a clearing bright with moonbeams.  At first he thought he was alone.  He could hear nothing but the wind.  Then he listened deeper and noticed that birdsong was beginning to reach the meadow.  He looked in front of him and saw his two goats walking toward him.  Mesmerized by his good fortune, Derwyndell did not move. Then he noticed that behind the goats was a man.  A mighty man who seemed to glow.  His beard was a rich brown and full and long.  His Robes were also a rich brown and flowing about him in many layers.  The embroidery upon his mantel was the most delicate and exquisite that Derwyndell had ever before seen.  Even Brudwyll could not boast of such accouterments as these.  The man held a long staff before him and as he approached, Derwyndell thought he had never seen a man so mighty, so prosperous, and so wise looking as this man. 

            The goats came to a stop beside Derwyndell and then the man came to a stop and looked at Derwyndell with piercing eyes.

            “Why hast thou come to this wood?” His deep voiced boomed as quietly as a tree falling in a distant wood. 

            “My goats ran into the forest and I hastened to catch them.”

            “Are they so precious that thou couldst not replace them with other goats?”

            “My lord, I am but a humble man, and must work very hard to have just these goats. They are precious to me.”

            “Is thy work so very difficult and wearisome?  What good do these goats bring to thy house?”

            “My good lord, they bring extra milk which I can sell to my neighbors.”

            “Dost not thy cow give thee enough milk?  Why work so hard to improve thy lot by so little?”

            “Faith, I am not content with what I have, and I desire the good things in life that every man should have.”

            “Truth thou sayest.” Though the lord did not clarify his meaning, and Derwyndell came away with quite the wrong one.

            The great lord continued, “Derwyndell, for I do know thy name, thou hast come into the forest looking for two brown goats.  Thou hast been discontent with thy lot in life.  I shall now show thee the way to what thy heart seeks.  If I show thee how to do that wilt thou be content with what thou shalt receive?”

            “If my lord canst show me the way to my heart’s desire, I shall indeed be content when it has been fulfilled.”

            “Thou sayest well, Derwyndell.  In a year and a day meet me again here in this clearing. “

            “How shall I find my way?”

            “In a year and a day thou shalt let thy goats loose into the woods.  Follow them and they shall lead thee to this clearing where I shall meet thee with due instruction. Do not ever kill these two goats, or thy doom shall be sealed.  Should they become sick thou must nurse them to health with every breath of thy body. ”

            “I shall meet my lord in a year and a day in this clearing.”

            Derwyndell knelt down to seal his vow, and when he looked up the mighty lord was gone.  In amazement Derwyndell pulled a string from his mantel and tied the two goats, one  on each end, and led them home.  The walk was a short one for how much he had run that day.  His wife met him at the door and looked at him with wonder that his face did shine so.  Saying nothing, he penned up the goats and asked for his supper. 

            And so Derwyndell kept his troth for a year and a day.  In the meantime his wife had given birth to a child, a young son.  Derwyndell was pleased to have a son to take on his name when he would someday leave the earth.  The neighbors all rejoiced and the wife was enormously pleased.

One night the baby was very sick. Derwyndell’s wife neglected everything in the home to look after the wee son.  Derwyndell looked on with worry as well, as the child got sicker and sicker.  He went out to the animal shed to check on the animals to help him take his mind off his worry.  With alarm ever rising, Derwyndell realized that his goats were lying prostrate on the ground, shaking all their limbs in a fever.  All thoughts of his son left him as he thought of what might be lost if the goats died.  The son reached a crisis point and the wife called for her husband to come back into the house, but he would not leave the goats. 

By the morrow, the son’s illness had passed and he was out of danger.  The goats too had made it through the evening and were on the mend.  The wife could not believe that her husband had not helped her in her vigil with their only son.  Derwyndell said nothing, feeling that his choices had been merited by all they would soon have with the great man’s aid.

The son grew strong that first year and amazed all the neighbors with words uttered profound for such a small lad.  Derwyndell worked hard, and while he loved his son, he had a hard time thinking much on him as he worked day and night to make better their lives.

When the time came for Derwyndell to go into the wood he led the goats to the forest edge and followed them in.  Soon the goats picked up their speed, though they seemed to go no faster.  Derwyndell began to run and run.  He ran until his lungs burned and his feet blistered.  His hair streamed with sweat, and his mouth ran dry. When he could go no further he fell to the ground feeling his doom upon him as the goats ran ahead and were gone.

When Derwyndell opened his eyes he noticed the leaves above him were so green that they seemed to be blue.  They were blue, and so velvety soft.  Their branches shone in the moonlight like silver.  A light from the south finally distracted him and he looked over his shoulder into a clearing.  With energy afresh he leaped up and into the clearing.  Sure enough, there were his two goats and the man.

“By my faith good lord, I thought I had failed you.”

“Derwyndell, thou hast found me again in the forest.  How hast thy year gone?”

“I kept the goats well my lord, and have worked as hard as ever so as to be worthy of this great gift of your wisdom.”

“Hast nothing else occurred of importance this last year?”

“By my faith lord, I cannot think of anything else. The goats were very ill one evening, but I kept my vigil. I am ready to begin to learn how to make my life better so I may be content.”

With a hint of sorrow in the great man’s deep, brown eyes, he took a deep breath and said, “Derwyndell there are 100 lessons thou must learn to gain all that thou desirest. Every year a day from now thou shalt meet me here and learn one lesson to master in the next year and a day.”

With despair pouring from every fiber of Derwyndell, he swallowed deeply, and with drawn limbs whispered, “But my lord, I am already in my thirtieth year.  How shall I learn all these lessons?  Surely I will die before I do.”

“I shall grant thee a special gift to aid thee Derwyndell.  I shall make it so that as long as thou keepest these goats alive thou shalt live forever.  Thou shalt never grow one bit greyer or leaner.  Thou shalt live as the Gods and learn and gain all that thou desirest.”

“My lord!  How wondrous!”

The great man went on to tell Derwyndell his first lesson. At the end of the hour Derwyndell knew it by heart, and they left vowing to meet again in a year and a day. Through the whole journey back home, Derwyndell marveled at his great fortune.

The year passed and Derwyndell’s coins began to increase.  The neighbors marveled and whispered their thoughts. They had no idea how Derwyndell could gain such wealth.  Was he not but a poor man?  He had no wealthy relatives.  Had he met someone who had been a benefactor?  Had he perchance saved someone in the wood and had been greatly rewarded?  Their thoughts also turned darkly.  Had Derwyndell killed a man for his gold?  Were his dealings not so honest as they had aforethought?

Derwyndell’s wealth grew and grew.  He spent many evenings digging in his field.  The neighbors thought he was planting seeds, and thought, “How superstitious our friend Derwyndell is growing, to plant by the light of the moon.”  Derwyndell was not planting seeds, though; he was burying his great wealth.  He thought of very little that year except for his gold coins and silver, and his goats.  He thought, “What a wonderful man am I.  How happy my family must be when I bring home so much wealth.” His wife at first marveled, and then worried.  Derwyndell no longer came in to sleep with the family every night.  Perhaps once a month she could convince him to leave his field-wandering vigil for one night and spend some time at home.  Surely, with so much gold and silver they could enjoy more time in each other’s company.  And every man needs his sleep at night, or else he will fall ill.  But Derwyndell did not fall ill.  In fact he grew mysteriously strong.  His son was also growing, though not too much in stature as he was still quite young.  In words, though, he was increasing daily.  His father could neither read nor write, nor could his mother, but the son could do both without being taught.  He could also sing, and often sat at his mother’s knee singing beautiful songs that made the birds want to join, as they often did.

At the end of the year and a day Derwyndell left for the woods with his goats.  He was strong and had a purpose about him that the neighbors noticed as he walked past and into the woods. 

Again Derwyndell chased his goats, this time he was a little less exhausted.  He had prepared a bit more.  Indeed he had spent a year and a day thinking of this day and preparing for it.  He had his wife make for him shoes that had double soles of thick leather.  He had his wife make him clothes that were light and airy so as not to impede his swift journey.  Still there came a point where the goats, untiring in their speed, left Derwyndell behind, panting in their dust trails.

He gasped for air, and finally when he could look about him without sweat pouring into his eyes he saw the leaves and the bark of the trees around him and quickly scanned for the clearing that he knew was near. The goats and the great man were waiting.

“Good morrow Derwyndell, how hast thy year been with thy family?”

“By my faith great lord, we have buried enough gold and silver to build an entire castle out of just those two things, with rooms enough to hold all the great lords of the land.”

“Indeed Derwyndell?  And no other wondrous things have been happening in thy life this last year?”

“I cannot think of anything my lord.”

With a breath of sadness lingering in those deep, dark brown eyes, the great man taught Derwyndell the second lesson.  As the birds ended their nightsong the two men parted with a vow to meet in a year and a day.

The next year passed swiftly with many goings on.  Derwyndell’s fame and fortune had spread to the great lords of the land and he began to be invited to hunts and gatherings.  He spent almost all his time up at the Lord Brudwyll’s castle.  Now having several times met the Brown Lord in the wood, Derwyndell looked on at Lord Brudwell, and thought what a less significant man he actually was.  He really was nothing much special. 

Derwyndell had kept his youthful good looks, in fact he had largely improved them since he had begun meeting in the wood with the Brown Lord.  Everyone marveled at his manly body.  Derwyndell’s head began to swell with the good views of everyone around him.  Indeed, not everyone, as all his neighbors whom he had known for years and decades had begun to mistrust him.  He never helped out on the farms as he used to.  He left his wife and growing son alone for days and nights on end.  The only thing he seemed to care about was the gold he had, his new friends in court and his goats.  Indeed, the neighbors had begun to talk about the mystique surrounding Derwyndell and his two goats.  He was never without them, and even on a hunt would carry them with him on his horse in a strangely fashioned contraption.  The ladies of the court thought Derwyndell vastly amusing, and so different than their own Lords.  His wife worried.

His son looked on and seemed to understand something that Derwyndell did not.  His speech and song continued to grow and even though the neighbors and his mother thought him of great mind and soul, Derwyndell did not take more than a moment’s notice.

The years went on and Derwyndell continued to care for his goats and make his vigil to the forest.  He did not grow older, though his family did.  After he made his name known in court he dug up his gold and built the most amazing and beautiful castle ever known to man. It was the strongest, most fortified castle anyone had ever seen.  There was a large room in the middle for gatherings and festivals and feasts, but no extra chambers, except those for his small family, to hold any guests over night.  Derwyndell had grown in fame, but had lost most of his friends and really did not care to have friends anyways, since having people think well of him in a public way was more important than people thinking he was wonderful outside of fame and fortune.

His wife grew old, as did his son.  His son grew strong and handsome.  He could read and write and wrote many important books for his time on kindness and hard work.  Those who knew him and his father marveled how such a son could be.  His mother looked on with pride and sadness.  He was her only son, an amazing son, but her only joy.  Derwyndell did not understand his wife.  He could not see how she could be so unhappy with all they had.  Had he not done and gained almost everything they could wish for?

The years passed, and on the 50^th meeting of the great man and Derwyndell, the great man querried, “Derwyndell, thou art getting close to knowing all that I know.  Thou hast amassed a great deal of wealth and property.  Art thou any closer to finding contentment?”

“Indeed lord, I have amassed much of what my heart desired.  There is still more to learn, though, and I vow to learn it.”

The great man stood taller, and asked, “Derwyndell, hath anything besides thy wealth and property grown in the last year?”

Derwyndell looked puzzled.  He had lost the power to think of anything besides his wealth and goats. He thought of his castle and servants.  He thought of his 5oo horses, 1000 cows, 2000 goats, 1500 chickens, 3500 pigs.  He thought of his silks, and linens.  He thought of how many people respected him as a great lord of the land.  He thought of the fleets of ships he had commissioned to build, and the journeys across the many waters he was to take in the following years.  Short trips of course, so that he could come back to the woods in due time for this annual meeting.  Indeed all his plans usually worked around this annual meeting. 

“If anything lord, the only other thing that has grown is my discontent.  By gaining more wealth and knowing more people I am learning how much more there is in the world, and I want to know it all.”

The great man drew his sword and chopped a tree down.

“Derwyndell I shall tell thee a great secret. Thou hast more in thy castle than thou art aware.  The next lesson is to find that which thou hast not known that has been there always.”

Perplexed Derwyndell made his annual vow to return in a year and a day. The next year he made a list of all that was in the castle:  every shoelace, every bonnet.  It took a year exactly to get it all down.  At the end of the year he looked in despair at his list.  He had every servant look at the list and confirm that there was nothing he did not know was there a year ago.  Not a mouse had been found, not a piece of lint over a week old.  In deeper despair and without much explanation, he took the list to his wife who had been taught to read by her son.   She looked up from her bedclothes.  She was quite old by now, almost 80 by the sun’s rising and setting.  She called for extra candles to be lit and the curtains flung open so that she could see the carefully scribed lists better.  She went over every item, not understanding why her husband was in such despair to find some thing he did not know they had.  Finally she asked him what she had been longing to ask for their entire marriage. She had been meek and trusting, though she had seen such a change in the man she had married.  So long ago he had been hard working and honest.  They were poor, but she thought they had been happy and that the future had seemed bright.  Now he was still hard working, but never home.  Their family had been an estranged one, with hardly any spoken word between them.  She had been faithful, as had he, but only in the sense that he had no other love but fame and fortune and the two little brown goats.  How those goats could have lived so long, she did not know. 

With a quiet voice she asked, “Why is this so important husband? Why art thou so despairing to find something lost when thou hast so many other things.  Indeed thou hast enough things to fill five volumes of books.  Thou hast servants, and vassals, and this castle made of gold and silver.  Thou hast horses, and animals enough to serve several villages.  Thou hast a wife who has been faithful and a son who is intelligent and is wondrous in thought and deed. What more couldst thou desire?  Why canst thou not be content?”

Derwyndell told his wife the tale he had never told her.  He had never thought to tell her before. Indeed Derwyndell had never thought of many important things outside his desire for contentment, which is why he never found it.  After speaking to his wife he went to bed.  He woke up the next day and followed his goats into the woods.  His neighbors, long dead, watched from Aryndell.  His wife, back in the castle, called for her clothes and a horse.

She was carefully clothed in purest silver garments.  They hung about her form like weeping willow.  Her hair was plaited in a circlet-like crown most glorious. Her bright blue eyes shone deep with clarity and purpose.  She seemed to transform in front of her servants eyes into the most wise and virtuous woman they had ever laid eyes on.

She mounted her steed with strength.  She calmly set out, though the horse swiftly moved with hoof-sounds of rain and thunder. She passed Derwyndell in the wood, and he marveled at such a grand lady alone in the forest.  He had no thought that his wife was the lady clad in silver, like a white queen shining in the sunshine, though he thought, “Moonlight would become her best.”

When at last exhausted and despairing he fell into the clearing, he saw the maiden.  Or he saw the light around what he thought was a maiden and her steed, so bright was she shining.  He shielded his eyes and tried to speak but the light impeded his words. 

They waited.

The light continued to blaze.

The shadows around him grew as the sun began to set.

Stars arose slowly one by one.

All was quiet and still in the forest.

The moon rose as big as the known world and milky white with the most brilliant moonshine.

The lady’s brilliance seemed to grow brighter and softer at the same time.

As Derwyndell tried to see without becoming blind, he noticed a hand touch his shoulder.  He turned around and saw the Brown Lord.  As the Brilliant Lady was now behind him all her light shone on the Brown Lord and he was also brilliant.  He was still clothed all in Brown, but in the Lady’s light they also had a white look about them.  They were both brown and white at the same time.

“Derwyndell, didst thou find what thou hadst and did not know?”

“No lord, I have indeed failed in that quest though I took great pains to mark down every tiny and great thing I owned.”

The lady moved behind Derwyndell and a million doves flew from every branch of every tree surrounding the clearing. 

Derwyndell turned and saw his wife, Brethwyllin. She was glorious.  Her virtue was bright, brighter than the sun.  Her beauty shone in a way he had never noticed. He realized in that moment that he had never noticed, for he knew in that moment that she had been that way the whole time.  Inside herself she had been that brilliant, that faithful, that wise, that good, that everything he needed. 

He left the forest.  He went to his castle.  The road was long.  He penned his goats, and began his vigil for the next year and a day.

Years later when he reached his 100^th lesson he was old and young.  His hair was still brown.  His son was now quite old.  Indeed his son was on his deathbed about to die of a long and happy life surrounded by grandchildren and great grandchildren.  The Brown Lord met Derwyndell for the last time.  And when he returned all was gone and forgotten and tarnished and old.  He buried his goats and took up a new pilgrimage for Aryndell.