The Three Golden Apples

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess called Atlanta. She was not like other princesses, who usually spent their time doing needlework and sitting in the garden. Instead, Atlanta preferred to go hunting. She was such a good huntress that her fame had spread throughout the length and breadth of the land. Her bow was as large as a man’s, she could shoot an arrow as straight as a man, and she was so swift at running that she could easily keep up with the most fleet-footed hunter.

One day, her father came to her and said, “Atlanta, my dear, I really do think that it is about time you found yourself a husband. You are a beautiful girl and there is many a young man who would wish to make you his wife.”

“Very well, father,” replied Atlanta. “I will marry the man who can outrun me in a race, but if he loses, he will be beheaded.”

Messengers were sent to the four corners of the kingdom, and on the day of the races, the greatest princes in the land came to seek Atlanta’s hand in marriage, although they knew that to lose the race meant losing their heads.

The first suitor stepped forward and waited for the start of the race. As the flag dropped, Atlanta and the young man raced for the winning post, but Atlanta beat the young man easily, and he was taken away to be beheaded by the palace guards. Time and time again, Atlanta won the races, never seeming to tire.

When there was no one left to challenge her, Atlanta went to her father and said, “You see, there is no one to beat me. Now, if I may, I will return to my hunting.” With a sad nod of his head, her father agreed.

One day, a young prince came to the palace. He had heard of Atlanta’s fame and daring, and he had also heard that she had promised to marry the man who would beat her in a race.

His name was Prince Melanion and he was the fastest runner in his country. When the king’s ministers and advisors heard that there was yet another young man who had come to try and win the princess’s hand, they were worried.

“It is foolish for you to try and beat Atlanta at running,” they said to Melanion. “It seems such a pity for a fine young man like yourself to lose his head just because he is beaten in a race.”

But Prince Melanion refused to listen to their advice. He was called before Atlanta’s father, the king, who said, “Young man, my ministers tell me that you wish to marry my daughter. You realize that you will have to beat her in a race and that she is the swiftest runner in the land.”

“I do, sir,” replied Prince Melanion.

The day of the great race arrived and people from miles around came to watch. The course was three miles long and at the finishing line sat the king, ready to declare the winner. Atlanta and Melanion stood side by side on the starting line and as one of the king’s ministers dropped the starting flag, they sprinted away and out of sight.

Prince Melanion let one of the golden apples slip to the ground.

Atlanta let Prince Melanion take the lead and ran a few yards behind him, confident that when they neared the finishing line, she would be able to run ahead and beat him. However, the prince was more cunning than she thought. He had brought with him three golden apples, the loveliest apples in the world. They grew only in a garden on the other side of the world, protected by the strong North Wind. The prince knew that Atlanta was not far behind him, so as he ran he watched for her shadow, for he knew that when he saw it lengthen on the grass beside him, she was about to overtake him.

They had gone about a mile when Melanion noticed the princess’s shadow beginning to grow longer, so he let slip one of the golden apples and as it fell to the ground, the princess cried out in amazement.

“What a beautiful apple. I must have it for myself,” she thought. She stopped running and bent down to pick it up. “I have plenty of time to catch up with this slow-footed prince,” she said to herself.

The prince was now some way ahead, but Atlanta ran as fast as she could and soon she was nearly level with him again.

Another mile had passed and the prince saw Atlanta’s shadow fall on the ground beside him. He dropped another golden apple and as soon as Atlanta saw it, she stopped to pick it up. “How lucky I am to have two golden apples,” she said to herself.

On and on they ran, and as they neared the finishing line, Atlanta decided it was now time to pass the prince and win the race, but as she drew alongside, Melanion threw down the third and last golden apple. Quickly, the princess stopped and bent down to pick it up, still sure that she could just beat the young man.

She sped after him as fast as she could, gaining a yard every second. They were getting nearer and nearer to the finishing line and still she was catching up. She was just about to pass Melanion when they crossed the finishing line. The prince was the winner.

The crowd cheered themselves hoarse and the king, with a huge grin on his face, declared Prince Melanion the official winner.

When Atlanta had regained her breath, she admitted defeat and promised never to race again or go hunting. She admitted that she had fallen in love with the prince when they first met and they were married at once. The wedding was the largest ever to be seen in the kingdom, and the happy couple settled down in a house given to them by the king, and there they lived happily ever after.