The Giant Who Had No Heart in His Body

Long ago there was a king who had seven sons. One day a dreadful giant stole a princess and carried her off to his castle. The king’s six eldest sons rode out to rescue her, but they never came home again. Then the youngest prince—smallest and quietest of them all—asked for a horse and some food, and begged his father to let him try.

“Let me go, Father,” he said. “I will bring back my brothers, and the princess too.”

The king sighed, but at last he nodded. “Go then, my son, and may courage ride with you.”

The prince rode far into the deep, dark forests and across stony hills. Before long he saw a raven perched on a bare rock, with wings drooping and eyes dull with hunger.

“Caw! Caw! I’m so hungry I can hardly caw,” the raven croaked.

The prince opened his pack. “Poor bird,” he said kindly, and broke his bread and meat in half. “Share with me.”

The raven ate and brightened. “Thank you,” it said. “Someday I’ll repay you.”

The prince rode on until he came to a river. There a salmon thrashed in the shallows, caught among roots.

“Flop! Flop! I can’t get free!” the salmon gasped.

The prince slid from his saddle, waded in, and gently lifted the fish back into the deep water.

“Thank you,” the salmon bubbled. “Someday I’ll repay you.”

On he went, till a great gray wolf stepped from the pines, eyes like lanterns. The horse reared, trembling.

“Don’t be afraid,” said the prince, though his heart thumped. “What do you want, wolf?”

“I’m starving,” growled the wolf. “I must eat you—or your horse.”

The prince stroked his horse’s neck. He loved the brave animal, but he also loved his own life, and he had a quest to finish. “Take my horse,” he said with a heavy heart, “but spare me.”

The wolf leaped and in a blink the horse was gone. The prince stood alone with his pack and his courage.

“You gave up much,” said the wolf, licking his chops. “You are a good lad. Where are you going?”

“I seek the giant’s castle,” the prince answered, “to free a princess—and my six brothers, if they still live.”

“Climb on my back,” said the wolf. “I’ll take you faster than any horse.”

So the prince swung onto the wolf’s back, and off they sped over hill and hollow, through wind and snow and shadow. At last they came to a cold, gray castle under a mountain. In the yard stood six statues of stone—six young men with sorrowful eyes.

The prince knew them at once. “My brothers,” he whispered.

“Be careful,” said the wolf. “The giant who lives here has no heart in his body. That is why he is so cruel. But there is a princess inside who may help you.”

The prince slipped into the castle and found a pale, brave princess spinning by the fire. When she saw him, hope lit her face.

“Hush,” she whispered. “The giant will be home at sunset. Hide under my bed. I will try to make him tell me where his heart is.”

The sun sank. The giant stomped in, with a bag of gold over one shoulder and a smell of mountain wind following him.

“Fie! I smell Christian blood!” he roared.

“Oh, nonsense,” said the princess sweetly. “It’s only the smoke from the fire. Sit and rest.” She patted the stool and smiled so kindly that the giant’s growls grew smaller.

After a little while, she said, “Dear Giant, people say you keep your heart in the cupboard.”

“Do they?” he grunted. “Then we’ll soon stop their talk.” He yanked open the cupboard and banged and rattled everything inside. “No heart here!”

The next evening, when the giant came home, the princess said softly, “I heard your heart lies under the doorway.”

“Did you?” he snorted. He ripped up the door-sill stones and stamped the earth flat. “Ha! No heart there either.”

On the third night she leaned close and stroked his rough hand. “If I truly cared for you,” she cooed, “you would trust me. Tell me where you keep your heart, so I need not fear for you.”

The giant’s face softened. He liked to be admired. “Very well,” he said at last, “but if you tell a soul, I’ll turn you to stone. Far, far away there is a lake. In the lake is an island. On the island stands a church. In the church there is a well. In the well swims a duck. Inside that duck is an egg—and in that egg is my heart.”

Under the bed, the prince heard every word. At dawn he slipped out, hurried to the wolf, and told him the secret.

“We must go quickly,” said the wolf, kneeling. “Hold tight.”

They flew over forests and fjords until they reached a lake that lay like a mirror under the sky. In the middle was a tiny island, and on it stood a little church, crooked with age. The door was locked tight.

“Stand back,” growled the wolf. He leaped and burst the door with one mighty blow. Inside they found a stone well with black water. The prince peered in, and just then—whoosh!—a duck shot up out of the well, flapping hard, and sped toward the open door.

“Now I can help!” cried a familiar voice. The raven swooped from the rafters, struck the duck with its beak, and the duck dropped something small and white—an egg!—which fell, plop, into the well again.

“Now it’s my turn,” bubbled another voice. The salmon flashed up from the depths, flicked its tail, and pushed the egg to the surface. The prince reached in and caught it safely in his hands.

“Thank you, friends,” he said, tucking the egg carefully into his palm.

Back they raced to the giant’s castle. The princess met the prince at the door. “Hurry,” she whispered. “He will be home any moment.”

The prince stood in the courtyard with the egg. The giant strode in—and suddenly he let out a howl and clutched his chest.

“My heart! My heart!” he bellowed. “What do you hold there, boy?”

“Your heart,” said the prince calmly. He squeezed the egg a little, and the giant sank to his knees, groaning.

“Spare me,” the giant begged. “What do you want?”

“First,” said the prince, “bring my six brothers back from stone to life.”

The giant gasped, but he could not refuse. “Take water from the spring behind the house and sprinkle each statue,” he panted.

The prince did as he was told, and one by one the stone figures shivered, blinked, and became living men again. His brothers sprang to him with tears and laughter.

“Next,” said the prince, “set free everyone else you have turned to stone and send them safely home.”

The giant groaned, but he obeyed. All around the mountains, mossy boulders and cold statues stirred and breathed again. Families cried out with joy.

“Now free the princess,” said the prince, “and swear never to harm anyone again.”

“I swear,” moaned the giant.

“Good,” said the prince. He squeezed the egg hard—crack!—and it split in his hand. The giant gave one last roar and fell like a toppled pine. Then he was still, and the great, grim castle seemed lighter, as if a heavy cloud had blown away.

The wolf stood by the gate, tail high. “Your road home is clear,” he said. “We have done our part.”

The prince thanked the wolf, the raven, and the salmon. His six brothers saddled fresh horses, and together they rode with the princess out of the shadow of the mountain, into sunshine and songs. When they reached the king’s hall, there was feasting for days. The eldest brothers found good brides of their own choosing, and the youngest married the brave princess who had helped him.

As for the great gray wolf, he slipped back into the forest, where his paws made no sound and his eyes shone like stars. And if you ever hear a raven cawing or see the flash of a salmon in the river, remember: kindness travels far, and always finds its way back.