This next installment in the Rove City series, The Silver Skull, is based on a little-known Hungarian fairy tale called “The Lover’s Ghost.” I’ve written out my own version of the tale below.
As with all the Rove City fairytales, I did not remain entirely true to each beat of the original story, but I pulled quite a few structural and aesthetic parts from the story, and I like how it turned out.
You can read The Silver Skull here.
The Lover’s Ghost
Once upon a time, a young woman named Judith loved the handsomest lad in her village, John. They planned to marry, but before their wedding could take place, war broke out and the bridegroom was drafted. The maid promised to await his return and remain faithful until he returned.
The war raged for two years, and when it finally ended, Judith waited eagerly for her betrothed’s return. She waited for four (!) years, but still he did not return.
Eventually, she went to see her godmother (a witch, of course) and asked for advice. Her godmother told her, “Tomorrow with be the full moon. Go to the cemetery and ask the gravedigger for a human skull. Then bring me the skull. We will put it in a pot and boil it for two hours with some millet. Then we will know whether your lover is alive or dead. And maybe it will entice him to come home.”
Judith went to the cemetery the next day. The gravedigger happily gave her a skull, took it home, and cooked it.
After boiling for a bit, the skull said, “He has started.” After a bit longer, it said, “He is here, outside in the yard.”
The maid ran outside and saw John standing just past the threshold. His horse was snow-white, and his clothes were entirely white as well, including his helmet and boots. As soon as he saw her, he asked, “Will you come to the country where I live?”
She agreed, mounted the horse, and they made out for a while. (I’m serious, that’s in the original tale.) They rode through the countryside until they got to a village where they saw a bunch of men also clad in white who ran past. Then John said, “How beautifully shines the moon, the moon; how beautifully march past the dead. Are you afraid, my little Judith?”
“I’m not afraid with you, John,” she replied.
Hundreds more white-clad men rode past, and again John asked if she was afraid. She was not, when with him.
Finally, they arrived at an old burial ground. John dismounted and led her to an open grave. At the bottom was an open coffin with the lid off.
“Go in, dear,” John said.
“You go first,” Judith replied.
John descended into the grave and laid down in the coffin, but Judith ran away as fast as she could go, and took refuge in a mansion nearby. All of the doors were locked except one, which opened to reveal a long corridor. At the end was a body laid in a coffin. She hid near the fireplace.
As soon as John realized Judith had run away, he jumped out of the grave and raced after her, but he couldn’t catch up. When he reached the door, he said, “Dead man, open the door to a fellow dead man.”
The corpse inside sat up and walked to the door.
“Is my bride here?” John asked when the door had opened.
“Yes. She is hiding by the fireplace,” the corpse told him.
“Come,” said John. “Let us tear her to pieces.”
Just as John and the corpse were about to reach Judith, a rooster crowed. Dawn broke and the sun’s rays fell through the open door and into the room. The two dead man vanished.
At that moment, a richly attired man entered from one of the other rooms in the house. He approached Judith and embraced her gratefully.
“Thank you!” he exclaimed. “The corpse laid here was my brother. I have buried him 365 times, with the greatest pomp and circumstance, but he has returned each time! You have saved me from him. Let us marry and rejoice.”
And so Judith married the wealthy landowner.
