Blanca and the Well of White Mists
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About this ebook
Blanca and the Well of White Mists is a story that can be understood on different levels. It is written for ages 9-12 but for reading aloud even from age 7, much because of Genevieve Claesson's expressive illustrations in the book.
Anna Karin Järpemark
Presentation of the author and illustrator Anna Karin Järpemark is a High School teacher from southern Sweden. She teaches Swedish with a Degree of Bachelor of Arts in Swedish for Teachers of Immigrants. Apart from her interest in languages, Anna Karin is also interested in other creative forms of expression, for example watercolor and oil painting. Genevieve Claesson (nee Wooten) has made the cover painting and the fifteen black and white illustrations in the book. Genevieve, born in the USA, and now living in Sweden, has worked many years as an art teacher in both Middle and High School. She has also exhibited her art, oil and watercolor paintings in several galleries in Sweden.
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Blanca and the Well of White Mists - Anna Karin Järpemark
Table of Contents
The Thunderstorm
The Flight
The Forest Lake
Memories of Father and Mother
The Locket
Yellow Eye
Snowfeather
The Song of the Heart
The Mountain Cabin
The Bird Woman
The Letter
Shoes of Willingness
Up the Mountain
Astor – of the Tall Ones
Be True to Your Heart
Enjoy the Good of Life
A Sorrowful Melody
What Gorm Found
The Valley of Mists
The Tanner’s Son
The Market
Dangerously Near
The Belt of Truth
The Marshlands of Despair
The Spinner Woman
Yellow Eye and the Turning Point
A Guard for Your Thoughts
Another Feather
The Woodcutter Girl
The Charcoal Burners’ Village
The Storyteller
The King’s Last Battle
The King’s Shield
Astor's Announcement
The Spiral Mountains
The Well of Darkness
The Marble Castle
The Crowning
The Thunderstorm
The thunder was rumbling on this black night. Flashes of lightning lit up the castle gardens for short moments. The castle, covered with ivy and climbing roses, looked more frightening than beautiful. The rumbling in the skies and pattering of rain formed the backdrop when mighty powers met in the heavens this night. Hares and pheasants, that had their homes in holes and hedges, were frightened by the sharp bangs of thunder and flashes of lightning, and they wandered about confused, trying to hide, but found no place to feel safe. Violent powers brought forth the storm on this blackest of nights. Fear got a hold of all living things, and shook everything that could be shaken.
The window, with its red panes of glass and lead frames, shook with the sound of a sharp bang. There was a shattering sound when one of the window panes cracked from the enormous pressure. A young girl sat up in her bed with a jerk. A ray of moonlight found its way and fell on a pale face with a crown of light brown curly hair. The blue-gray eyes were wide open. The girl quickly flung aside her red silk bedcover and stepped on to the cold stone floor. She ran to the window and screamed as she saw lightning hit the western tower. It was in that part of the castle that the king and queen, her step parents, had their bed chamber. The servants had their living quarters there also. The tower was immediately engulfed in heavy flames, and for all those who lived in that part of the castle there was no rescue to be found under the heavens.
The girl stood frozen at the window. Suddenly the sound of a dog barking drowned out the roar of the fires raging over the western tower. Her beloved dog, Whitepaw, was calling for her, and brought her back to her senses. They had to get out of the castle now, her and Whitepaw. In no time at all, the fire would spread here to the eastern side and soon the whole castle would be covered in flames. She looked around the dark room, ran to a large wardrobe, put her feet into a pair of leather boots, and grabbed a long thick cape from a hook.
The girl kept the most precious objects she owned in a wooden chest by her bed. In the chest were memories from the days her parents were still alive – easy-going days. With quick shaky fingers, she opened the lock and lifted the arched lid where her name, Princess Blanca, was written with elegant silver threads. It was hard to see but her fingers felt among the familiar objects and she chose a few of them, aware that she could only bring a few memories with her. She put some of these small objects into the pockets of her cape.
The Flight
Again she heard the sound of her dog barking, and a terrible howling cut through the roar of flames and falling beams. Princess Blanca tore open the door and rushed down the spiral stairs. She ran through large empty halls, almost flew down another stairway and finally landed at the cellar door.
Whitepaw, I’m coming!
she shouted as she opened the door, and Whitepaw, wild with fright, couldn't contain how happy he was to see her. He almost toppled her over when he jumped up in her arms. There wasn’t a moment to be lost; they had to get out of there! The rain was pouring down now, and gravel crushed under Blanca’s boots as she ran over to another building at the other end of the grounds. Behind her was a roar of fire. Something crashed, and the ground shook, but Blanca didn’t look back. Whitepaw was at her feet, and no words were needed. They both knew what had to be done.
A shrill whinny met them when they opened the stable door. Whitepaw ran over to the horse stall, but Blanca ran up a wooden stairway first. There, in a high tower was a dovecote. By pulling on a chain, you could open and close a little hatch in the wall. Blanca pulled hard on the chain and the hatch opened loudly.
Scratching sounds were heard as the tame doves forced their way through the opening and flew out.
Blanca fetched a lady’s saddle, threw it quickly over the mare's back and pulled tight. Soon she was ready to lead out her horse, Mazita, who shook with fear, and with widened nostrils was sniffing the smell of smoke. Even though the rain was pouring down and whipping the ground, it could not quench the fire, but had filled the area around the castle like a moat, growing wider and deeper.
They had to escape now! Blanca collected her skirts and mounted Mazita, and with Whitepaw at their heels, they galloped off towards the beech forest. When Blanca turned around for the last time, she saw how the whole castle was covered in flames. Even her own tower room was engulfed now. A few of the elm trees nearest the castle were also burning, their branches reaching into the flames. It was all like an unreal dream.
The Forest Lake
They rode past a beech forest, and then through some scattered pines, over softly rolling fields, and into a deep ancient forest.
The wild ride didn't end until they saw a little forest lake between the thick fir tree trunks. Mazita slowed a little. Blanca realized the horse was thirsty, so she jumped down from Mazita, and led her to the water. Whitepaw followed, and both animals drank eagerly and long. Blanca sat down at a fallen tree trunk.
The rain had stopped, and the moon between some dark heavy clouds was shining with a cold, light blue shimmer. Thin white mists were floating among the trees. The princess slowly realized what had happened. It had all happened so fast, and all she could think of, was to save herself and her friends from the fire. Now she sighed and tried to think straight. Had she done the right thing? Or should she have tried to save the king and queen in the western tower? No, she didn’t have a chance, but her thoughts tormented her. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw those raging flames that destroyed the western tower. It was such a terrible end for the king and queen.
The animals had drunk enough and walked calmly over to Blanca. Whitepaw