The next day was uneventful and the unusually warm weather continued. The sun shone down on Rapunzel’s head and shoulders as she plodded along at the speed of the ox and to the sound of the chickens’ clucking and squawking. Occasionally she amused herself and Mother with her songs, but she always stopped singing when someone came within listening distance. Her mother had warned her not to let strangers hear her beautiful voice or see her golden, ankle-length hair, which Rapunzel kept covered with a scarf and sometimes a stiff wimple. But Mother had never explained why. Perhaps she just didn’t want Rapunzel attracting attention to herself for the same reason she didn’t want her singing or speaking to men, young, old, or in-between.
On the second day of their journey, two travelers caught up with them, leading two donkeys that pulled a cart loaded and covered by burlap, with one of the men riding on the tallest lump on the back of the cart. As they passed by to Rapunzel’s right, the man leading the donkeys smiled. “Pardon me, but would you know how close we are to Hagenheim town?”
“We should reach it by tomorrow night.” Rapunzel noticed a big scar on the side of his face. “You may reach it sooner since you are moving faster.”
“Thank you, kind maiden.” He nodded.
Mother turned to stare hard at something just behind them. The second man stared pointedly at their bundles and baskets tied to Moll’s back. When the man’s eyes darted to hers, the hair on the back of her neck stood up at the look in his eyes and the strange smile on his face.
“A good day to you.” He spoke politely, and they moved ahead until they rounded a shady bend in the road and disappeared.
She sighed in relief, until her mother said in her irritable tone, “Don’t speak to strangers, Rapunzel. You know it is dangerous.”
“He only asked a simple question. Besides, he didn’t look dangerous.”
“Dangerous men are the ones who take care not to look dangerous.”
Clouds encroached on the sun, sending a shadow creeping over her shoulder. As they entered the double shadow of the trees that hung over the curve in the road, the cart that had passed them a few moments before sat idle several feet ahead. Its two owners were nowhere in sight.
Rapunzel felt a sensation like bugs crawling over her skin. She put her hand on her belt, where she usually kept her knife, but it was not there. She must have left it in their food bag when she put everything away after their midday meal. Should she stop? Or speed up?
Before she could decide, she heard footsteps running up behind her. She spun around just as the man who had smiled at her earlier reached his hands toward her. And he was still smiling.
The story continues in The Golden Braid by Melanie Dickerson.
About the Author
Melanie Dickerson is a two-time Christy Award finalist and author of The Healer’s Apprentice, winner of the National Readers’ Choice Award for Best First Book in 2010, and The Merchant’s Daughter, winner of the 2012 Carol Award. She spends her time writing romantic medieval stories at her home near Huntsville, Alabama, where she lives with her husband and two daughters.