The Warwitch Hare

 

 

 

The Warwitch Hare, by Will Jacques

 

Once, long ago, there lived in the rocky village of Warwitch a young man called Hare. Hare was the seventh son of a very poor farmer and his family suffered much from want. One day, after his father died, his mother came to him and she was crying. “Hare,” she said. “You are a man now and your beard is coming in. We have no land for you, for it is all gone to your brothers. There is nothing for you here but hunger and poverty. You must leave and make your way into the wide world.”

Hare was much distressed at this and went to see his friend, who was the village smith and a cunning man.

“I am sorry to see you go,” said the smith. “For you are much beloved by me and the wide world is a dangerous and lonely place. Three gifts I have for you and I can do nothing more.”

 

For his first gift, the smith gave Hare a warm blue cloak; woven thick and close, for the road was cold, with rain and night.

For his second gift, the smith gave Hare a long knife; heavy and pointed for stabbing, for the road was dangerous and fraught with peril.

For his third gift, the smith gave Hare a sturdy oaken staff; capped with thick iron, for the road was long and the terrain treacherous.

 

Hare was much relieved, for he felt himself able now to face what troubles would surely come his way. He thanked the smith and started off along the winding purple road that led away into the wide world.

Long He walked, till he came to a mountainous land. Steep with cliffs and beset with icy winds. Hare trusted to his cloak to shelter him through the icy passes. At once, a frost giant lumbered out to block his way.

“Hold Pilgrim,” said he. “You need not that blue cloak. Come shelter within my icy hall. There you will sleep more deeply than you have ever slept before.”

“Thank you, but no,” said Hare. “I must walk to keep warm.”

The giant blew his freezing breath. “Sleep,” he sang, “dream of comforting warmth.”

Hare walked on. Soon, the giant tired of being nice. He raged and stormed with all his frigid wrath, but Hare walked on. At length, the giant tired and grew still. Hare found a great wealth of the mountain’s treasure, gold and silver. He took it to himself, with much toil, and his cloak sheltered him until he passed from the mountains, and continued down the purple road into the wide world.

Long he walked, until he came to a hilly land, thick with fog and damp with cold. At once, a hungry robber-wolf blocked his path.

“I see you are lost,” snarled the robber-wolf, “for this is a far and desolate land. Only the lost would venture here. Free yourself of your burden and I will show you how to get an easy meal.”

“I am not lost,” said Hare, “only travelling, through this hilly land and into the wide world.”

“I am a killer,” said the robber-wolf.” I am frightening to all who behold me. Quake, for you must know that I am the most dangerous of fellows and I have many more like me waiting to take their vengeance. I see you have gold and silver, give it to me and I will let you pass.”

With this, the robber-wolf bared his long, yellow fangs and leaned toward Hare with a horrible grimace.

“You certainly are a frightening fellow,” said Hare, “I will give you my silver.”

At this, the robber-wolf leaned closer, with an even more horrible grimace.

“You certainly are a frightening fellow,” said Hare. “I will give you my gold.”

At this, the robber-wolf leaned closer, with an even more horrible grimace.

“You certainly are a frightening fellow,” said Hare. “I will give you my steel.”

With that, he drove his long knife into the robber-wolf’s breast. Then he used his long knife to skin the robber-wolf and make a fine set of boots from his hide. He put on his boots, and then set out on the purple road to make his way further into the wide world.

Long he walked, until he came to a wide land, warm and rich with pastures. At once a learned priest blocked his path.

He carried a crooked staff. It was an ornate thing, flimsy and unreliable. “Hold my son,” said the learned priest. “Harken unto me, and I will relieve you of your earthly burden. We are a Godly country here and all must give to the Unseen One, Who Lives in the Sky. Since you are a stranger, you get to donate everything you have.”

Hare paused, “If The Unseen One Who Lives in the Sky is unseen, what does he need with money?”

The learned priest looked unhappy. “He uses it to build temples for His worship and glory.”

Hare paused, “You cannot see the sky from a temple. Wouldn’t it be better to worship ‘The Unseen One, Who Lives in the Sky’ while outside?”

The learned priest looked angry. “He uses it for the glory of His church and for His priests to spread His holy vision.”

Hare paused, “Of what Vision do you speak? If no one can see The Unseen One, then how can the priests see anything more than anyone else, since nobody can see anything to start with?”

The learned priest was furious. “You are a foreign devil, and have no right to enter the kingdom of God.”

The learned Priest held up his crooked staff, which was flimsy and unreliable.  “Accept this staff, His holy image, and pay His holy tithe or we will declare you heretic, your property and your life forfeit.”

At this, Hare took up his oaken staff, bound with caps of thick iron and brought it down on the learned priests head.

“I think I will keep this one,” said Hare. ”It has been with me all this time and it seems my journey is just beginning.”

 

© Will Jacques, 2011

 

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