She stretched out a long bony finger at him. On it, flashed
the splendid diamond, which Benlli had given his bride, the beautiful
Maid of the Green Forest.
"Take me to thy bosom, monk Wyland," she shrieked, laughing hideously
and showing what looked like green snags in her mouth. "For I am the
wife you are sworn to wed. Thirty years ago, I was Benlli's blooming
bride. When my beauty left me, his love flew out of the window. Now I
am a foul ogress, but magic makes me young again every seventh night.
I promised that my beauty should last until the tall flag reeds and
the long green rushes grow in his hall."
Amazed at her story, Wyland drew in his breath.
"And this promise, I have kept. It is already fulfilled. Your spell
and mine are both completed. Yours brought to him the peace of the
dead. Mine made the river floods rush in. Now, waters lap to and fro
among the reeds and rushes that grow in the banqueting hall, which is
now sunk deep below the earth. With the clash of our spells, no charm
can redress our fate.
"Come then and take me as thy bride, for oath and spell have both
decreed it as thy reward.
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