Girls, Goddesses and Giants Page 5

  Tokoyo jerked and tugged on the silver fabric, trying to escape, but she couldn’t tear herself free. She fumbled under the robe and pulled out her oyster knife.

  With one slash she cut off the hem and freed herself.

  The serpent’s mouth opened in surprise, the fabric which Tokoyo had cut away slid out from between the fangs, and Tokoyo saw the sea serpent’s eyes flick to watch the silver ribbon drift away.

  She realised that the sea serpent was chasing the silver robe, not her. The silver was bright in the dim rippling water, so the wrapping round the gift was what allowed the serpent to catch its food.

  She undid the silver belt and pulled off the silver robe. Then she threw the robe in one direction and she dived, in her dark tunic, in the other direction. The sea serpent snapped after the robe, not after the dark shadow.

  As the sea serpent’s head turned away from her, Tokoyo dived towards it, and stabbed the serpent’s right eye. She jerked the knife out and the sea serpent’s black blood darkened the sea. She swam over the sea serpent’s head, stabbed the left eye and tugged her knife free again. Then she dived under the sea serpent’s jaws and cut right across its throat.

  But she didn’t take the knife out a third time.

  Tokoyo left the knife in the sea serpent’s flesh and dived down and round its long writhing body. She swam in a spiral round the serpent, cutting all the way, slicing off a long line of yellow skin as she dived.

  As she swam round and down, the blood spurted from the serpent’s flesh, but as she cut more and more, the flow of blood slowed, until it was only seeping out.

  When she reached the tail of the serpent with her sharp knife, the blood stopped completely and she knew the monster was dead.

  She used her knife to cut the strip of skin off at the tail and the sea serpent drifted to the seabed, naked and skinless and dead.

  Tokoyo held in her hand a long strong scaly yellow skin rope.

  She could feel her lungs straining. Her body needed air. But she swam to the statue and tied the skin rope around its waist. Then holding the other end, she swam upwards, not rushing, taking her time, staying safe all the way up to the surface.

  Her face burst up into the air. She took a deep and welcome breath.

  Then she swam to the shore. She put the skin rope in the hands of the girl she had saved, the priest she had persuaded and the long curve of fishermen, and she asked them to pull. They hauled and dragged that wooden statue out of the water.

  When it was on the shore, Tokoyo turned it over to let the water drain out.

  When the statue’s mouth was empty and the wood started to dry, then the warlord in her village far away breathed properly again.

  When he discovered that Tokoyo had lifted the curse on him, he let Tokoyo and her father return to their village, where her father healed anyone who needed his help and Tokoyo dived for pearls.

  But whenever she went to that beautiful and dangerous underwater world, she took a silver sash tucked into her dark tunic, in case she ever needed to distract another giant sea serpent.

  The Giant’s Heart

  Scottish folktale

  Once there was a boy who left home with nothing but his sword, to seek his fortune.

  He walked into the forest and the first thing he saw was a wolf with its paw caught in a steel trap. The boy prised the trap open with his sword and the wolf said, “Thank you for freeing me. If you ever need my help, just call me.”

  The boy walked on and saw a hawk with its feet caught in birdlime on a post. The boy eased the hawk’s talons loose and the hawk said, “Thank you for freeing me. If you ever need my help, just call me.”

  The boy walked on, thinking that he wasn’t making his fortune, but at least he was making friends.

  By the river, he saw an otter tangled in a fishing net. He cut the net open with his sword and the otter said, “Thank you for freeing me. If you ever need my help, just call me.”

  The boy walked on, deeper and deeper into the forest, until he heard a scream ahead of him. He ran to the edge of a clearing in the trees, where he saw a girl with a charred rope round her waist being dragged through the grass by a huge giant.

  “Let me go!” the girl screamed.

  “No!” boomed the giant. “I will not let you escape again. I will chain you up if you keep burning through my ropes. And I won’t let you go until your father stops sending heroes to kill me and starts sending gold to ransom you!”

  As he wrapped a chain round the girl’s waist and shoved her into a dark cave, the giant said, “If I don’t get money soon, I’m going to eat you, just like I’ve eaten all those boys with their swords.”

  On the edge of the clearing, the boy with the sword shivered. But he couldn’t leave a human being in a trap when he had rescued a wolf, a hawk and an otter, so he waited until night fell, then he crept up to the cave entrance. He crouched down by an old tree stump and listened. He heard monstrously loud snoring, which he hoped was the giant, and he crept in.

  In the light of the fire flickering in the centre of the cave, he saw rugs and stools, barrels and pots, shelves and cupboards. He saw the girl curled up under a thin lace shawl by one side of the fire, and on the other side, the giant sleeping under a velvet quilt, with an axe by his huge hand.

  The boy tiptoed up to the giant. He lifted his sword high and slashed down hard. The giant’s head rolled off his neck, and the boy said, “Yes!”

  Then he ran to the girl. “I have saved you!”

  “No you haven’t. Hide yourself. Now!”

  “But…”

  “Don’t argue. Don’t be like the others. Don’t waste time arguing. Just hide!”

  So the boy hid behind a big barrel.

  And he saw the giant sit up, pick up his head and put it back on his neck, with a squelchy grinding sound.

  Then the giant stood up and grabbed his axe. “Who did that? Where is he? I’ll roast him for my breakfast.”

  “No, you won’t,” said the girl calmly. “He ran off. He didn’t wait around like the others for you to eat him. He’ll be long gone now. Just go back to sleep.”

  So the giant lay down and once he was snoring again, the girl lifted her chain quietly and came round behind the barrel.

  “Thanks for trying to save me,” she whispered to the boy. “But this giant can’t be killed with a sword.”

  “Why not? I cut off his head. That’s usually a killing blow.”

  “He can’t be killed that easily because his heart isn’t in his body. It’s hidden in a safe place, so his body can’t die.”

  “Where is his heart then?” the boy asked.

  “Well, he says it’s in that cupboard there…”

  So the boy got up, climbed the cave wall, opened the cupboard quietly and looked inside.

  It was empty.

  He climbed down and tiptoed back to the girl.

  “It’s empty.”

  “Of course it’s empty. I’ve been here for weeks, I’ve already looked. Anyway, he’s not daft enough to tell me where it really is, when I just ask him a straight question. But if you would like to help me, perhaps we can find his heart together. Could you stay hidden here, and just watch and listen?”

  The boy nodded, then spent an uncomfortable night and morning crunched up between the barrel and the cave wall. First he watched the giant sleep, then wake, then have his breakfast. Then he watched the giant go out hunting, leaving the girl on a long chain so she could cook and clean and shake the rugs and quilt out at the entrance to the cave.

  The boy stood up and stretched. “Why don’t I break your chain with my sword right now, rather than waiting for a chance to find the giant’s heart?”

  She smiled. “No, he never goes very far away, so if we make too much clattering and clanging trying to break the chain, he’ll hear us and rush back. Please hide again, and let me find the heart my own way.”

  Then the girl stood on a giant-sized stool and polished the cupboard door. The boy watched as sh
e hung garlands of flowers round it, painted little love hearts on it and tied her own hair ribbon round the handle.

  When the giant came back in the evening, the boy watched and listened as the giant pointed to the cupboard and said, “What’s all that?”

  “I just wanted to make the cupboard pretty,” said the girl, “because you said it was where you kept your heart.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  The girl looked a bit embarrassed, and muttered, “Because in the weeks I’ve been here, dear giant, I’ve grown fond of you. And I wanted to show you how my heart felt, by decorating your heart’s home.”

  The giant sniggered. “You silly little girl. I’m holding you hostage! I’m going to eat you if your father doesn’t fill my cave with gold. Why would you try to decorate my heart’s home? You foolish little girl!”

  The girl blushed. “Well, I know you’re a nasty big giant, but I’m lonely here and I feel like you’re my only friend.”

  The giant laughed out loud, showing all his crooked brown teeth. “I’m not your friend! And I’m not impressed by flowers and ribbons. Anyway, that’s not even where my heart is, you daft little girl!”

  “Isn’t it? So I’ve decorated the wrong place!” She sniffled. “Oh dear. Because I thought if I decorated your heart’s home, you might like me even just a little bit more…”

  “Ha! I’m not that stupid! Anyway, you can’t decorate my heart’s true home, because that chain I’ve got round your waist won’t reach as far as the tree stump outside the cave! And even if you could decorate the tree stump with ridiculous ribbons and wimpy flowers, you couldn’t reach inside the stump to decorate the stag, or the duck inside the stag, or the salmon inside the duck, or the egg inside the salmon, which is where my heart really is. So give up, girl. I don’t want ribbons and flowers. I want gold. And if I don’t get gold, I’m going to eat you up, whether you simper and smile at me or not.”

  The giant laughed again and ripped the ribbon off the cupboard door. The girl sat down and sobbed. But the boy sat behind the barrel and smiled. Now he knew what he had to do the next day.

  The boy and the girl waited all night, listening to the giant’s snores, then once the giant left the cave, the boy stood up and stretched, and joined the girl at the cave entrance.

  The chain around her waist wouldn’t allow the girl to reach the tree stump, but the boy took three steps forward, lifted his sword and sliced open the tree stump.

  A sleek stag leapt out and started to run off. The boy called “Wolf!” and the wolf he had freed sprinted out of the forest and chased the deer.

  When the wolf brought the stag down, a shining duck flew out of the deer’s mouth and flapped off into the air. The boy called “Hawk!” and the hawk swooped down out of the sky and grasped the duck in its talons.

  A silver salmon fell out of the duck’s beak, landed in the river and swam away. The boy called “Otter!” and the otter slid into the water and chased the salmon. When the otter dragged the salmon out of the river, a black egg rolled out of the salmon’s mouth.

  The boy stamped on the egg, but his foot bounced off, and the egg didn’t break. He sliced at the egg with his sword blade and hammered at the egg with the hilt, but the egg didn’t break.

  He ran back to the girl at the mouth of the cave, and gave her the black egg. She bashed the egg against the wall of the cave, but the egg didn’t break.

  The boy and the girl looked at each other. They looked at the splintered tree stump and the shiny unbreakable egg.

  And they heard the giant’s footsteps coming back.

  The boy said, “We can’t break it. And he’ll see the broken stump, so he’ll know you’ve tried to get at his heart. He’ll eat you tonight!”

  The girl said, “No, he won’t.” She took off her lacy shawl. “Please cover the stump with this, as if I threw it from here.”

  Then she said, “I think I can guess who has to break the egg.”

  They heard the giant’s footsteps get louder.

  The boy nodded. “You’re probably right. But how will we –?”

  “Hide,” said the girl. “Hide and leave it to me.”

  So the boy draped her lacy shawl over the shattered stump, and the girl put the cold black egg under the bearskin rug at the entrance to the cave.

  The giant appeared out of the trees, just as the boy hid behind the barrel.

  They both watched as the giant walked into the cave, wiped his feet on the edge of the rug, then took a giant stride right over the lump in the middle.

  The giant smirked at the girl. “I saw your shawl on the stump. Did you throw it on?”

  “Yes, I wanted to keep your heart warm, just as the sight of you warms my heart.”

  He snorted. “Foolish girl.”

  She pulled the egg out from under the rug, held it behind her back and walked swiftly to the middle of the cave, where she put it under the cushion on the giant’s stool by the fire.

  Before he sat down, the giant pulled the stool back from the heat of the fire, and the egg rolled out from under the cushion and fell towards the floor.

  The girl caught it before it hit the ground.

  The giant asked, “So what are you going to do next, you daft lassie, knit a scarf for the stag, a hat for the duck and nice little mittens for the salmon’s fins?” He laughed loudly.

  “No,” she said. “I will make crowns for them and the crowns will circle their heads like this…”

  She put her left hand on his head and walked round him until she had her fingers on his forehead. The giant laughed at her. Then she lifted her right hand and smashed the egg as hard as she could into the thick strong bone of the giant’s skull.

  The egg cracked open.

  And the giant fell backwards off the stool, with a thump like thunder.

  The giant was dead.

  So the girl borrowed the boy’s sword for the long and noisy job of breaking the links of her chain. Then the two of them roasted the deer, the duck and the salmon, and shared a meal with the wolf, the hawk and the otter.

  And I don’t know what happened next. Perhaps the boy and the girl decided that they made a good team, got married and lived happily ever after together.

  But it’s just as likely that they shook hands, went their separate ways, and lived happily ever after on different sides of the forest.

  The stories and the sources

  I love adventure stories, but I’ve always been disappointed that so many traditional adventure tales are about girls who need boys to save them. This led me to make radical changes to a dragon story while I was telling it to a room full of nine-year olds, so that instead of waiting at home for a boy to kill the dragon, then being married off to him as a prize, the girl went out and killed the dragon herself (using exactly the same clever method the boy used) then refused to marry anyone. The story went down very well with the nine-year-olds, but I felt I had been unfair to the original legend. I felt I had changed the story too much, that I had ripped the heart out of it.

  So since then, instead of being annoyed by the stories I know, or changing them beyond recognition, I’ve been searching for authentic traditional stories with strong girls. There are lots of them out there, if you look hard enough: folktales, fairy stories, legends and myths where the girl or goddess sorts out her own problems.

  Now I am delighted to share my favorite heroine stories with you.

  But I have to admit that even though I don’t like to alter the heart of a story, I do often tinker with the edges, before I tell them out loud to groups of children. I might change the dialogue so it works in my voice, or fill a few plot holes so the story makes more sense to me, or add a few details so the pictures in my head are more vivid, or stretch out the chase scenes and battles to make the telling more exciting. So the stories I tell are my own versions, true to the spirit of the story which inspired me, but not identical in the words or the details. That’s how stories grow and evolve and stay alive, so if you tell any of
these stories, please make them your own too!

  In case you want to read more about these characters and cultures, here’s where I originally found the stories. Good luck hunting for your own heroines and defeating your own monsters!

  Chi and the Seven-headed Dragon

  I tell lots of dragon stories and this is one of my favorites, partly because a dragon with seven heads and 693 teeth (did you work that out?) is pretty scary and partly because Chi is a resourceful girl who kills her own dragon without help. This is my version of Sally Pomme Clayton’s “Dragon Girl” story in Amazons! (Frances Lincoln, 2008) which is a retelling of the Chinese Ballad of Li Chi.

  Inanna and the Box of Monsters

  I love the old Sumerian myths, and the goddess Inanna has better action stories than most of the gods. The original story of Inanna and Enki, written in cuneiform writing thousands of years ago, doesn’t give much detail about the monsters, so I had fun inventing the fights. However, the original does give lots of detail about the gifts, so everything Enki gives Inanna is authentically Sumerian. Even the hairdressing. I first read about Inanna in Sumerian Mythology by Samuel Noah Kramer (University of Pennsylvania Press, 1961) then found more recent translations online.

  The Wolf in the Bed

  I’ve recently written a traditional retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, which is lovely for little ones, but a bit frustrating because she has to be rescued from the wolf’s belly by a man with a knife. When I was researching the origins of the tale, I found a much older version, which isn’t as child-friendly, but which I really liked because the heroine saves herself. So this is my adaptation of Catherine Orenstein’s translation of “The Grandmother’s Tale” in Little Red Riding Hood Uncloaked (Basic Books, 2002).

  Telesilla and the Gates of Argos

  There are various versions of this story about women defending their city. I chose to adapt the one which seemed most likely and realistic to me, which is from an ancient travel guide explaining why Argos had a statue of a woman with books and a helmet: Pausanias, Guide To Greece Volume I: Central Greece (Penguin Classics, 1971).